Asylum, Book II
by shywr1ter
Summary: Max and Logan, AU, circa 2023. This 'prequel' documents events leading up to the story in 'Asylum,' through Bling's eyes. Eyes Only has been outed, and Max and Logan look to starting over, far from Seattle...
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel borrowed, no profits realized. **

**A/N: The original _Asylum_ popped in the middle of another story, and I really had fun with how it developed -- a Max & Logan AU told entirely through only one character's point of view, that of an original character who knew Logan only from his public personas, and didn't know Max at all.**

**The AU and the POV idea wouldn't let me go, so this too popped up in the middle of another couple ongoing stories. (Oh, well.) So here begins the same basic _Asylum_ AU, around the same events as the original, told from another character's POV– this one, not an original, but an old friend... (and some backstory about this "old friend" is borrowed from _Still Waters_...)  
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_**Asylum: Book II**_

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**March 6, 2023**

Bling sat in his car, outside the penthouse, for another few moments before going inside. Once he'd made his decision he knew he'd stick with it, but it didn't make this any easier.

He'd left family before; left brothers he'd made in the service ... but this was different. Logan had played too many roles in his life to make this easy: first, just another street warrior for Eyes Only, he'd thought; then patient, employer ... inspiration ... friend. Now it was mostly friend; he still did some rehab work with Logan but almost more as a reason to find time to get together and talk; Logan was perfectly capable of doing all the PT or training he needed now, either alone or with Max's help, and the training Logan did with Bling these days was more shooting hoops, playing one on one, than anything. Once Logan had been outed as Eyes Only, Bling had been to the Penthouse far less often than before, and did next to nothing for the Informant Net, in the hope that his connection to Logan in that capacity wouldn't be discovered. And as far as any bodyguard position, the times he'd filled that role – well, hell, he looked like an amateur next to Max.

So Logan wasn't dependent on him; he'd long before passed the point where he was needed as a therapist or assistant of any sort. And it was clear that he'd come to his own cross-roads: Sandra was out in the Heartland for good, it seemed, and he found he wanted her in his life badly enough to go join her. Her life there was a good one; the town, a picture of contentment and peace almost pre-Pulse in its appearance. It was quiet, clean ... surviving. And Bling decided that after all the ugliness he'd seen, both before and after the Navy, after the stress of living in a broken-down, still struggling Seattle, there were too many reasons to join her. Permanently.

But this was the part that would make the move painful. He'd miss Logan, more than about anyone he'd left behind: no one had challenged him as much as Logan had; he'd rarely had friends or colleagues who could keep him on his toes, keep him thinking ... inspire him to do the right thing, as Logan did again and again ... as Logan himself had done, at great personal cost. No one had spoken to his inner sense of balance, not since his beloved Granny had passed away, as strongly as Logan did, even if the man was often spun off his own equilibrium, tilting at windmills, cranky or stubborn or on a wild goose chase...

Bling got out of the car and headed toward the building's entry. There would be promises of visits and staying in touch, but he knew how often those panned out. With a sigh, he pulled open the lobby door. He hoped that Logan would face this better than he was facing it ... but suspected that it would be otherwise. Even in the elevator, riding up to the top floor as he had done so often these past few years, he wasn't sure what he could say to do this right...

Letting himself in the penthouse, Bling immediately heard Logan's voice, carrying frustration – a sound he suddenly realized he'd heard more often in recent months than he had even in the worst of times, once he'd been let in on Eyes Only. "No, look, Reef, I understand – you can't keep it going; I know..." A pause. "No, you're right – it could lead back to the others, and that whole section will collapse." Bling walked in, softly, to see Eyes Only on yet another disposable cell phone, the only ticket he had these days, along with the signal scrambling technology he'd had added to the penthouse, that allowed some assurance that he wasn't under surveillance and his conversations 'overheard.' Logan's brow was drawn. Glancing up to see his friend come in, he tried a smile, but failed miserably. "What about your contacts?" he asked the person on the other end of the line, and his face fell even more. "Oh ... right. Right." He sighed, and summed, "look, you have to pull out, I know. Give me a couple weeks and I'll leave one more packet in the drop for you, alternate plans for down the road if you want to start up again. Yeah, man. Thanks for everything." He snapped the phone shut and shrugged, helplessly. "Our last insider in the state office building. No one left as inside eyes, now that Eyes Only is a publicly traded commodity. Reef was seen with me, so is being watched; his sources were seen with him so are being watched, too. We're out of business in that franchise, Bling."

The dark eyes assessed Logan. He was tired, clearly, the unraveling of Eyes Only unraveling _him_. "I'm sorry, man. I know how much work you put into all of it, to see it torn away like this."

Logan sat unmoving for only another moment, before raising tired eyes back to Bling. "Look– I'm sorry. That's a hell of a way to welcome you back. How's Sandra? Did you have a good trip?"

"She's fine. She loves it there," Bling found himself starting to lay the groundwork. "The school's great, and the town's welcomed her with open arms."

Logan's smile, even if still showing his pain, was genuine. "I'm glad. And she's how far from Chicago?"

"About ninety minutes. Not far." Bling looked at his friend, looking beaten, alone, and wondered how he could tell this man that he, too, was pulling out on him, bugging out. _Not today_, Bling decided. _Another day or two, maybe... _His eyes fell on the now-familiar stacks of mail on the table, pleas for money and help, that Logan insisted on sorting into piles he labeled "impossible," "possible" and "do it." All stacks seemed higher than he'd ever seen, the latter two far outsizing the first. "You backed up on things?" he asked, gesturing to the letters.

"No, I..." The look in Logan's face again was pained, exhausted. "They're just coming in bigger batches now. The more people hear that we've gotten something accomplished, they want us to help – finding lost relatives, lost children ... proving some conspiracy or solving crimes..." He passed a hand over his face. "Or just desperate people wanting money. There's got to be some way, Bling, that I can invest and get more dividends, maybe get a bigger income source..."

"Logan..." Bling got his attention. The green eyes, red-rimmed, looked back up at him. "When was the last time you slept? Where's Max?"

"She's at work." He half laughed, "you sound like her. She saw that I didn't quite get to bed last night and said she's coming home tonight and pulling the plug, no calls, no computer; she's dosing me with tryptophan and making me sleep twelve hours..."

"No joke, man..." Bling said softly, "you need it."

"No... I need to find a way to keep Eyes Only going, even if they know who I am. Look at these, Bling," his voice was just a whisper as he grabbed a handful of letters. "Pleas for help... rumors of babies sold on the black market after being kidnaped from their families ... young girls sold overseas ... water sources being drugged so towns don't have to hire as many cops. Crazy accusations or legitimate problems?" He sighed. "There's got to be some way..."

"The Free Press can pick up a lot of that..." Bling reasoned.

"Not everything can be done above ground."

"But you said it yourself – the Net's crashed, here. No one in the existing system is safe from scrutiny." He looked at the man before him and urged, gently, "You've become more of a liability than a help to the Net, Logan, as terrible as that is to face. You've got to let it go, and let the Press handle things. It's time to shut it down here."

The hurt in his friend's eyes was deep, but Bling barely registered it as his own words suddenly echoed in his head. An answer, after all? _Is there any way he'd agree...? _

"...it took years to develop all this..." Logan was saying.

"I know," Bling agreed, softly. "But you know what I'm saying is true." He considered Logan for another moment, then, eyes narrowing, trying to keep a rising enthusiasm in check, he leaned forward, voice low. "And when you started it all, you were one guy, who then quietly made a couple contacts, and a couple more – and, behind the scenes, things started to grow. What have you said about missing those times, working in true anonymity?"

Logan shook his head, still pained, but clearly had caught Bling's drift. "C'mon, Bling, realistically – how can I do that? Name recognition, I'm recognized on the street ... between the press Eyes Only has gotten, and the years of my family's visibility here – not to mention that being on wheels cuts an easily identifiable silhouette..."

Bling allowed a small smile to creep over his features as he lifted his eyebrows in challenge. "Here, maybe..." Logan looked back to him in question, apparently still unaware of the hope he'd offered Bling. "You gonna offer me some coffee?"

_TBC..._


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel borrowed, no profits realized. **

**A/N: This sequel retells events related to an earlier story, _Asylum,_ from Bling's point of view. As with _Asylum,_ all events here will be those seen, heard, or experienced through only one character. **

**I would really appreciate some feedback here – it appears that you don't like this one. From the number of hits, compared to the number of reviews, it seems a fair number of you found this story even during FFN's recent illness, but it hasn't moved many to comment. If this story is just weak indulgence, please let me know, and we'll scrap it! I can take it – I'd rather know, and take it down, than keep posting a losing effort...**

**Whichever way – thanks for stopping by.**

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_**Asylum:**_

_**Book II**_

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Bling followed Logan out to the kitchen, letting his eyes flicker over his friend's movements with a professional eye. _Just tired,_ Bling noted with some relief. _Doesn't appear weak or shaky. Probably a good part of the tiredness is mental – discouragement can wear him out faster these days than a full court press does. _

"Have you eaten?" Logan asked over his shoulder as he headed toward the cupboard for another coffee mug.

Bling smiled to himself as he nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. Thanks." _Tired, but remembers his manners. He'll be alright, for the time being, especially if Max follows through on her threat tonight – as if anything could stop her._ "Go ahead if you haven't eaten anything."

Logan didn't reply to that, but merely filled both mugs full of coffee. Bling found himself analyzing it all: _he knows I take it black, as he does, so doesn't leave room for milk or sugar; he knows I'll grab the mug for him, so he doesn't have to skimp on filling it, to avoid sloshing. Almost like an old married couple... _

_...**that's** why this feels so hard,_ Bling knew. _Almost like asking for a divorce._

Logan handed the mugs to Bling and turned to move toward his refrigerator. Leaning in, he pulled out a generous bowl of grapes to grin up at his friend. "When was the last time you've had these?"

Bling blinked, impressed. "Can't remember. Where did you find them?" he asked.

"Max had a run out by the docks, and was there as they were being unloaded. Looked like a private delivery – or maybe a shipment for a restaurant. Whichever, she sweet-talked one of the dock hands into selling her some. C'mon – to celebrate your homecoming." Logan put the bowl in his lap and pushed out toward his dining table, Bling following. As Logan lifted the bowl to place it on the table and pulled up closer, Bling handed him his coffee and took a seat across from him.

Apart from a murmured thanks, Logan sat quietly, sipping his coffee without speaking, his mood slipping back again from the spark of life Bling had seen as he pulled out the grapes. _He's going to fight this, no matter how it's approached. Maybe just offer it as a consideration, for future use...? _"Logan – seriously. You need to take a look at Eyes Only. You've done a lot of good for a lot of people, and have gotten more accomplished with civilian volunteers than anyone could imagine. But things have changed – you've tried several ways to keep it going as it had been, but since word's gotten out about your being Eyes Only and how you operated – it just doesn't look like the old methods can survive." The pained green eyes swung up to his, begging for a retraction that he had to know wouldn't come. "I know you don't want to hear it, but come on – you can't tell me you haven't thought exactly the same thing."

"So, what, I'm supposed to just leave it all, just walk away?" Logan mumbled into his mug, eyes cast down now. Borne of the four, close years he'd spent with this man, Bling recognized the petulant words and tone as a plea for Bling's input on a topic he'd probably already spent weeks chewing on himself.

"No." Bling waited, and as he knew he would, Logan finally looked up, mildly irritated that Bling toyed with him like this, mildly contrite at being caught at his attempted manipulation. It was enough, Bling decided. The topic hurt them both enough that Bling wouldn't poke at him any more, or make this any harder. "Maybe with hindsight, you can assess what you've done so far, and from that, think about what you'd like to do from this point on. What were you going to do next, if you hadn't been discovered? What had you hoped to do? Just keep on looking for corrupt officials? Wait for reports from the 'Net, follow problems as they arose?"

Logan's eyes narrowed, looked off in the distance. "I suppose... keep going as we'd been going. There never seemed to be a shortage of projects to investigate," he added, cynically.

"Okay, well, that option has been taken from you. I know you had a couple different plans for dismantling the 'Net, if your records were compromised, or if you were caught and pumped for information. But ... no plans for voluntarily shutting down and transferring the work into a different approach?"

"It hadn't occurred to me," Logan said, dryly.

"What about now?" Bling waited for the inevitable reaction, and when Logan reluctantly looked back to his trainer, Bling asked, "it's been a while now since it all came out, and your efforts to keep things going as they had been aren't working. So now what?"

Logan sighed. "I don't know."

Bling considered him. _Honest answer... but incomplete. If I know Logan at all, he's given it plenty of thought but just hasn't come up with an answer he likes yet. _"You want to keep at it?" he tried, softly. It wasn't really a question, but would allow discussion to begin...

Logan nodded. "Yes, of course. As much as I can."

"You're aboveground now, and addressing some things that way. The Free Press has a wider distribution than the P-I or the Times does, so clearly the word is getting out. That's good," Bling encouraged.

"Good, but not enough. I've looked into a few things for them that I can't let anyone know about until they're ready to be published, for fear of endangering either the staff or our sources. It's like shooting in the dark," Logan's voice carried the frustration he felt at being hobbled by working aboveground.

"Still? Things are better now; the system is back to working far more like it should be – much of it thanks to you. I thought most of the corrupt ones had been run out."

But Logan grimaced, clearly not satisfied. "How can we take the chance that it is? When it was just Eyes Only hacks, it could all be pointed back to me, only – they find out who I am, they go after _me_, end of story. Only I knew the all sources and the extent of the 'Net. But with the paper, there has to be a lot more than just one person involved. The more people involved aboveground, the more targets for them to go after, if the paper tries to go after the real dirt. So we have to play it safe – _safer_," he corrected. "And try to tell me that some of the vultures out there haven't already figured that out."

Bling considered pointing out to Logan that it had gone far past 'being limited only to' himself as Eyes Only, but thought better of it – as usual, Logan was dramatizing his point, but it was a point certainly well taken, and a sobering concern. "So ... how much _can_ you do alone, if you were to start it over again now? Maybe rebuild, as you did back when? You could concentrate on the darker stuff, get it out there in another guise?"

"'Back when,' I could do a lot of digging myself – not only was I a lot more mobile," he said grimly, "no one knew me, or knew what I represented. And I had some contacts already, from writing for the paper."

"You still have contacts. Maybe you just need to find a way to communicate with them that's less public, and less traceable." Bling mused.

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Any ideas for _that?_"

Bling shrugged, letting a small smile play around his lips. "You're the idea man. I'm just the muscle."

Logan snorted softly. "Seems you've have a lot of suggestions and opinions over the years, for just being muscle."

Bling's smile broadened a bit with his words. _Yeah, and you're welcome,_ he replied, silently. No matter the tone or the words, Bling knew exactly where he stood with this man. He felt honored to call him friend, and was pleased when he could be of assistance. He knew how much Logan relied on him in the early years, and how that had shifted gradually to even greater respect and appreciation of his friendship and his direct, honest input when needed. _I know how you've felt about those suggestions and opinions, both as they were raised, and in hindsight when you decided I was right. So maybe, for all that, you'll hear me out, now..._ "You'll think of something, if you need to." Bling took a grape to savor its sweet, long-missed flavor, then tried, "what if you did it from someplace else – far enough away that no one would suspect your involvement here, anymore?"

"Like where – Canada? How could I be of any use from there?" Logan dismissed the idea immediately.

Bling's response finally opened the issue he'd been hoping to raise. "Tell me exactly how it would be any different, if you had to rely on telephone calls and e-mail and the Internet anyway – you could phone someone on the street as easily from across the border as you could from up here."

Logan hesitated, thinking; _looking for an argument and not finding a good one?_ Bling hoped. "It wouldn't all have to be like that. Certainly I could get out and around; maybe get some info from people at those more public Cale Industries functions I've been avoiding..."

"You really think so? Why would they start talking now? Why would they suddenly be willing to open up to you again, any more than they were right after you were outed?" Bling pressed now. "Logan ... think about it – think of what you were actually doing for Eyes Only in the months before it all came out. You were doing a lot less of the leg work, and concentrating on getting through security systems and into files from up here. Why not think about doing the same from further away? Hook up with someone like Matt, if he's willing, to be your eyes and ears even more directly and run that side of things. Scale it down and tackle some specific offices or 'businessmen,' but do it leaner and meaner." Bling saw he had Logan's attention, and went on, "from further away, you'd be out of the public eye, fewer calls for help taking your eyes off the ball – and fewer threats." When he saw the unconscious confirmation in Logan's eyes, Bling asked, his voice quieter, "they've increased, too, haven't they, the threats against you, against others around you? What if they're real, Logan?"

"There have always been threats, a lot of them unspoken, and maybe worse– the mayor's office, the police, or governor's office..."

"... or Manticore?"

The green eyes flashed their concern before veiling it. "We don't know that they've caught on..."

"We don't know that they haven't." Bling urged, and, ready to close in on his best argument in this, added, "they may be many things, but they're not stupid. Lydecker knows Max is still here and knows she's got a connection to you – maybe even more than you've been able to discover. As much as you've been trying to get information about Manticore, _some_one by now must have figured out that either Eyes Only, or Logan Cale, or both, have an interest in them. It may be that they haven't yet figured out what it all means, but why wait 'til they do? You can get Max out of here, and the both of you can go somewhere Lydecker and Manticore wouldn't expect to find either of you."

Logan shook his head, unwilling to meet the other's eyes at the turn the conversation was taking. "Max won't want to leave Seattle. Too many connections here; too much worry that the others might need her – or might come looking for her. At least some of them know where to find her here ..." Logan looked back to Bling, temporizing. "And Lydecker has seemed to leave her alone for quite a while, even though he knows she's here, too. It's as if it's been pretty much a stale-mate, lately. Max thinks maybe he's decided it _wouldn't_ be better to try to drag them back after all these years..."

"But you've always said you can't rely on that – and that you suspect she's telling you that to make _you_ worry less." Bling pressed. "Besides – even if she's right, and Lydecker's called himself off – what if someone else gets involved with the project, and wants another look? What if the powers that be don't like the fact that you've been snooping, and even if they let her off the hook, they come after _you?_ Or what if you and Max were ever to have kids – they'd want a peek, just like they did with Case..." Tough words that, before, they'd all tacitly agreed not to voice, but Bling saw he was getting through. "You've talked about getting Max to a place where she can feel safer, even before all this came out. Now, more than ever, for you and for Max – maybe it's time you pull out a couple of those 'long-term' identities you created – for both of you." He raised his eyebrows, prodding. "I can't think of a better time for it."

Logan looked beaten, haggard – a sign he was starting to give up, to give in to the situation he didn't want to face. With a swallow, his expression carrying his attempt to hide his feeling of failure, he lifted his eyes to his friend and tried, "what, you're tired of coming around every so often, to trying to kick some sense into me?"

Bling saw again in Logan's face how much his friendship meant to him, and appreciated that Cale saw him as he did Logan, as a brother. "Logan..." he began, wondering if he was pressing too much to admit this so soon. He dropped his head, thinking, then raised it to look back to the most talked-about eyes in Seattle, and shrugged, the bittersweet irony lending a softly-sad sound to his words. "You didn't ask me why I came here today."

Looking uncertain, Logan paused, as if looking for the answer first, before finally asking, "why?"

Bling's soft smile quirked up slightly as he admitted, "I was here to try and find a way to tell you ... that ... I'm leaving Seattle, to go be with Sandra."

"Bling..." Logan breathed, his eyes widening. Bling could see that the news surprised – and pained – his friend, and he suddenly remembered how many times this man had been left behind by those important to him. This time, however... he didn't have to be left behind...

"Don't you get it?" Bling sat forward, the plan making so much sense to him he couldn't let Cale refuse. "This town would be the perfect answer for you and Max – rural, out of Eyes Only range for all but the most powerful reception units ... friendly people, self-sufficient ... they seem to take care of their own there; Sandra has said several times that if anyone is hurting or needs a hand, the others in the community just pitch in to help. Over a century ago there were Mennonite settlements in the area, and apparently their ways just ... stuck. Think 'barn raisings' and 'quilting bees,' but with modern application." Bling watched carefully as, even though he was trying to resist, Logan was listening ... and considering... "Add to that, it's less than two hours from Chicago. You're under two hours from anything you'd need or want that can be gotten anywhere these days, above ground or below – a perfect, big city where someone could disappear, or find quick transportation out, if it came to that. Think about it, man," Bling pressed, his hope now apparent. "It's perfect." He waited a moment before playing his ace. "You can get Max out of here, and take her to a place Lydecker wouldn't expect to find her."

"I wouldn't go without Max," Logan conditioned his response. "If she didn't want to come, too..."

"I know." Bling nodded, "wouldn't expect you to. But _ask_ her, man..." he urged. "Last I heard, you've never found any evidence that Manticore or anyone connected with it has shown up in the Midwest," the therapist pointed out. "Given that neither of you have connections there, Lydecker won't think to look there."

"He might now, especially if he doesn't like losing track of her – her to me, me to you, you to Sandra & out there with her..."

"But just as you said, he _knew_ where to find her here, without looking very far, and hasn't made a move in all this time. And if you disappear from here, show up there with all ties to Seattle severed..."

"A new identity?" Logan mused, as if just processing what Bling had suggested, earlier.

"Your call. You might consider it for the both of you."

Suddenly the sound of someone stabbing the buttons on the security panel was heard, followed by a couple steps and a slam of the door before the biting clip of Max's heels banged down Logan's floorboards. Bling and Logan looked up in surprise to see Max appear before them, eyes glowing with rage, an angry scrape starting to purple across her temple and blood oozing from a cut on her arm, as well as from her knuckles.

"Max – " Logan's pale face went paler. "What...?"

"A couple of your fans thought they'd take me for a ride. They decided that the quickest way to the American Dream was to snatch 'Eyes Only's shorty' –_and_ her bike – and hold you up for a few bucks." Max was clearly far more angry than injured, as she started looking herself over, tugging at her torn sleeve and grunting at the damage she saw to her favorite jacket. "They're lucky to be alive, although they're not going to be able to live the life for a while – and one is going to have to eat through a straw for several weeks. _That_ was for what he did to my baby." She barely registered as Bling got up quietly, laid a hand on her shoulder as he pulled out one of the chairs, and guided her to sit before he went into the training room to fish out some antiseptic and gauze.

"Who were they?" Logan managed. As always, the thought that anyone could get close enough to Max to even muss her hair was clearly disturbing to him. Seeing her injured, even superficially, rattled him. "How many?"

"Four. Some out-of-shape, James-Bond-ninja wannabes. The garage was wired to catch my bike, right at the frame – and damn if I never saw it; I wasn't thinking about watching for booby traps," she growled her frustration at her own failing. "One of the losers even brought chloroform. I could have just used it on _them_, and I might have, if they hadn't been so damned ..." she bit off her words, as if deciding not to share some additional portion of events, as Bling returned with his supplies.

"C'mon, Max, let's get your jacket off..." Bling's soothing, therapist voice took control.

"Might as well burn it now; it's ruined..." she griped, the intensity of her anger burning off little by little, as she pulled out of the jacket and dropped it to the floor.

Logan had simply watched, unmoving, until he finally spoke. "Max..." Logan's eyes were pained, carrying worry for more than only her physical safety. "How do you know they were 'fans' of mine? Did they say ..?"

Bling watched Max's ire morph into indignation for the man before her, and, oblivious to the conversation the men had just been having, Max turned to Logan in some protective concern. "Just more crackpots, Logan; more of those jerks out there who think that because you gave so much as Eyes Only you owe _them_ some sort of free hand-out." Bling worked silently on her arm first, noting that it was a clean cut – a blade of some sort, he realized, mildly surprised that Max would have let a knife get that close – unless the four had been a better force than she was admitting. "They were cowards who figured it would be easy to snatch a chick. Imagine their surprise," she added, finally with some of her humor back, albeit with a cutting, sarcastic tone. "The little weasel with the chloroform is going to be tasting that stuff for a week..." Her momentary satisfaction was squelched by another memory. "But my baby..." she mourned, "they scraped it up and wrecked the suspension..."

Bling looked back to Logan – Max was still too pissed off to see it, but the attack on Max had cut him more deeply than it had her, the reasons both painful and unreasonable. "Max," Logan breathed, sliding his hand along the table toward her, "I'm sorry."

The sound of his voice got though to her, Bling saw. She turned to face Logan more fully and shook her head, her voice not allowing argument. "It wasn't your fault. Don't even think of taking the blame because some whack jobs think that your generosity is their entitlement."

"But to use you, to get to me..."

She tried to dismiss his concerns. "Logan, you know I can fight off any of these losers..."

"But you shouldn't have to..." he whispered, pained. Still holding her hand, he looked up at Bling, catching his eye – and Bling could practically see their entire conversation replay in Logan's mind, now filtered through this attack on Max.

The pain he saw in his friend's expression let Bling know he needed to retreat, and let the couple have time to themselves, to sort this out. _Maybe this will be the start of that conversation they need to have,_ he allowed himself to hope as he turned to Max. "Anyone else, I'd suggest a few stitches for that arm, but I think you'll be okay with some steri-strips – unless you think you need them."

"Nah – thanks, Bling." Her voice had softened, and she looked back to Logan, smiling ruefully. "This wouldn't seem so bad if you weren't so exhausted, you know," she coaxed, letting her thumb rub up over his knuckles, urging him to relax. "May have to kick you out, Bling," she added, not taking her eyes off an overtired Logan, even as she spoke to his therapist. "I promised Logan I was tucking him into bed, whether he liked it or not – and would knock him out if I had to, to do it."

"So I heard." Bling stood. "And, as I told him – I approve. Do what she says, man," Bling counseled. "I would feel awfully sorry for you if you didn't listen when a beautiful woman is trying to get you into bed – for whatever reason."

It was a measure of how deeply divided Logan was, his eyes still searching Max's face, that he barely reacted to the more personal part of his trainer's jab, but at least managed to roll his eyes to protest half- heartedly, "I don't need you two ganging up on me again..."

"Sounds as if you do," Max countered smoothly, "especially if Bling meant that 'beautiful woman' part, and wasn't just throwing it in to get extra points..." she tried a small smile, raising an eyebrow toward Bling, who shook his head solemnly.

"I stand by what I said earlier." He glanced back to Logan and added, meaningfully, "all of it."

Max glanced from one face to the other, and, both eyebrows now raised in immediate response, asked, "what'd I miss?"

Bling picked up the first aid supplies and smiled gently. "Just me picking on Logan, same ol' same ol." He considered them both as he retrieved his jacket, ready to leave. "Logan, give me a call tomorrow if you want to shoot some hoops."

"Okay," Cale said softly, barely processing Bling's last words... barely taking his eyes from Max.

Logan's thoughts were anywhere but hoops, Bling could see. At the moment, he was far more focused on the woman sitting across from him ... and his conversation with Bling before she came in. As the trainer turned to go, acknowledging Max's soft good-bye, he felt a ripple of guilt, knowing that the attack on Max couldn't have come at a more auspicious time. _Is this wrong to take advantage of an attack on Max, however ill- conceived, to pressure Logan to join us out there? Am I doing this more for my own hope that Logan Cale could be close by, his friendship at hand, than for the safety or well-being of either Max or Logan? _

No, his words had been truthful, Bling realized, stepping into the elevator and hitting the button for the lobby floor. Even if his intentions were ... less than honorable? ...serving his own, selfish wishes as well as theirs? ...whatever the purpose, he knew his concern was well founded and the solution a good one. And if he was able to take some benefit from it and they actually moved out there too ... so much the better.

The elevator doors opened and Bling walked out to the garage toward his car, seeing a damaged Ninja parked near Logan's Aztek, and the Fogle Towers' doorman standing by an ambulance as med techs loaded what appeared to be an unconscious form. _The last of the four?_ Bling wondered, _or one hapless casualty left behind by the others?_ Maybe if Logan used some sense ... maybe if Max was willing to leave Seattle, at least for now... maybe it would be the last casualty _she_ would have to leave behind, for a good long while...

_**TBC...?**_


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel borrowed, no profits realized. **

**A/N: Continuing events of _Asylum_ from Bling's point of view...**

**Thanks to everyone commenting so far, especially after my request for input in the last chapter. I know this little AU isn't for everyone, so I'll do my best to keep the others going while I indulge myself with this one. It's good to know, however, some of you are coming along with me...**

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_**Asylum:**_

_**Book II**_

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**May 2, 2023**

Bling pulled in behind Sandra's car as dusk settled in, grabbing his bag and heading toward the small house he now shared with the sweet, lovely principal whose love drew him half way across the country into a life far removed from the one he'd led in Seattle. As he grabbed the door handle and slid his key in the lock, he paused a moment, looking out over the board-flat, tree rimmed skyline, noting how peaceful the image was, how quiet ... he heard a lone dog bark, heard birds still singing, even a couple children playing a few houses down. But the urban sounds of traffic and a city grinding through its day were missing. Even more, the scents drawn in at his deep breath were of clean air, of moist, rich soil and mid-spring blooms, not gas and diesel fumes, dirty streets and human waste in doorways and stairwells...

Bling sighed, still feeling a certain emptiness in the surroundings. He knew how fortunate he was to have training and skills in huge demand everywhere, given how drastically the Pulse had affected college enrollment for years afterward. After arriving in Indiana, he'd immediately found a PT job at a hospital in the town twenty miles over, a small city a dozen times larger than this place. Now, after only four weeks at that job, he'd been contacted by the local clinic, which, like so many small-town facilities, was desperate to round out its staff with medical personnel: upon hearing of Bling's time as a medic with the SEALs and his advanced first responder training, the clinic director begged him to sign on for as many hours a week as he would give them to help fill out the only after-hours medical facility in town. _Anything a man could want,_ he reminded himself, _a way to contribute to others in need ... a way to support himself and family with that contribution ... welcoming people, a loving woman, a place in this beautiful, peaceful town... _

_Anything a man could want,_ he repeated to himself as he let himself inside...

As he entered, he immediately took in the tempting aroma of dinner simmering on the stove, and came through into the kitchen to see Sandra cutting vegetables for the salad before her on the counter. "Hey, baby," her smile for him lit up the room. "Good day?"

He came up to offer her a soft kiss, his free arm circling her. "Mmm-hmm. How about you?"

"The best," she grinned, bubbling with her news. "We just got word that they've found more funding for us for next year, enough for another teacher and a full time librarian, along with the new texts we requested."

"Sandra, that's great," he nodded, impressed, even knowing what a powerhouse she had been in her work to keep pressing for her school and her kids to get every advantage they could. "After all those board meetings and proposals and telephone calls – you got through to them."

"Yeah, how about that?" Her smile grew as she looked back to the pepper she was paring, and agreed with a chuckle, "you'd think they'd figure out that it just means I'll be back for more." She finished the pepper and looked back up to him. "But what about you? What did they say at the clinic?'

He reached for a slice of pepper and shrugged, "I think I can help out. I can schedule myself as I like at the hospital, so if I take extended days there three days a week, I could do all my paperwork here, then cover a couple evenings a week at the clinic. I can be of help here in town _and_ cut my gas cost by more than a third." He munched for a quiet moment before adding, "I might have an occasional Tuesday or Thursday at the hospital, though – and they'd want a Saturday once or twice a month at the clinic."

"So what did you tell them?"

"That I'd let them know tomorrow."

Sandra stopped her work to look back at him, as if looking for more behind his words. "I thought you were hoping it would work out," she tried, offering an encouraging look. "Sounds as if it will." He felt her eyes follow him as he nodded again and moved off, swinging his bag onto the chair at the breakfast nook, busying himself with its contents.

"Yeah, I think it will." As he had, fairly regularly since his arrival, he felt distracted – _homesick, _he realized, ruefully. With every additional connection to this place – to work, here – he felt his connection to Seattle fading... "I didn't know how you'd feel about the weekends," he tried.

"That's not it." Bling looked up as Sandra put down her knife and crossed over to him, turning him toward her gently and circling her arms around him, watching his handsome face as she pressed the issue. "Baby... c'mon, talk to me."

He glanced up toward her, bringing his hands up along her back, trying a light tone. "Only fair to let you have some input, since your weekends are usually free..."

"Yeah, but you worked weekends in Seattle all the time and it was never a problem, you know that..."

"I know. But that was how it was, when we met. Here, it's ... just us..."

"And just PT. Just a clinic." Bling looked up to the sympathetic dark eyes, and she went on, "you still miss your life out there, don't you – Logan, and Eyes Only, the work you did with him? Baby, I wish I could make it easier, and not so far away..."

"Sandra..." Bling shook his head, feeling guilty, "I don't regret being here, with you..."

"But it doesn't make you miss your friend any less." Before he could offer another well-intentioned protest, she insisted, "c'mon, BL, I've seen enough kids have their best friends move away to know what it looks like! Or have the new kids move to town, having left friends and teammates behind... I've watched a lot of kids with divorcing parents lose their mom or dad in a move. Baby, you look like every lonely kid I've ever taught..."

The big man looked into the understanding eyes and wavered, wanting to find words of denial but having none that would come honestly. He finally offered a small shrug with his haunted smile. "I'm sorry..."

"You have no reason to apologize – I just wish I could make things better for you." She tilted her head, considering. "Still no sign that they'd come out here too, as you suggested? When did you last hear from him?"

Bling drew a breath, remembering the last time he'd seen his friend, when he still had hope that Logan might be willing to move on, to face the fact that he couldn't continue with things as they were going now. "I get e-mails every other day or so, but he hasn't said anything about coming out ... I don't know if it's Eyes Only he can't leave behind ... or if Max isn't ready to leave ... or if it's just leaving Seattle. I think he'd see it as a final admission of failure." He looked back to the concerned face before him, and drew Sandra closer. "But we're here, and that's what matters. I just appreciate your being so supportive of getting them out here, too, if that's what they decide they want."

"They're good friends– and good people. They deserve better than what they have left to them in Seattle." Sandra rested against Bling's strong chest for the moment, and murmured, a familiar determination coloring her voice, "I just wish there was something I could do..."

Bling chuckled. "Sometimes I have to wonder who's more stubborn – you or Logan. You two are about the only people I know who would stay up nights trying to figure out how to move two towns closer together."

Sandra smiled, but her ever-active imagination wasn't dampened as she responded. "Harder things have been done," she mused. "If Max and Logan coming here would be so good for everyone ... we just have to figure out a way to make it happen."

**May 10, 2023**

Bling finished with the last session of his twelve hour day, feeling pleased with his patient's progress. As soon as the client's ride came to get her, the therapist grabbed his jacket and backpack to head out for the evening, digging in his bag as he walked for his small tape recorder into which he'd dictated notes of his earlier therapies. Talking into the small machine as he walked, recording the comments he wanted to be sure to include in his patient's notes while they were fresh in his mind, Bling nodded without breaking stride at the volunteer manning the reception desk, and went out through the parking lot, finishing off his notes just moments before reaching his jeep. Pulling out his mobile phone before tossing his backpack inside, Bling checked his calls. At the sight of a familiar number on his call list, his eyes lit up. He called for his messages as he started up the jeep and heard the familiar sound of the "last free voice" in Seattle...

"Hey, Bling, it's Logan. Sorry I missed you. Give me a call when you have a minute, okay? Day or night – just like always." There was a short pause, when he added, "later." The message ended there.

Bling pulled out into traffic, and as soon as he cleared the downtown area to swing onto the highway back home, he hit the speed dial for the familiar number and smiled wider when he heard Logan's voice – live, not a machine – in response. "Logan, hey..." he began. "Sorry I missed your call, man..."

"Bling –" the therapist could hear, in the voice on the other end, that his friend was happy to hear from him, too. "No, look, I forgot until I called that you work late on Wednesdays, so I figured I might hear back later." There was a brief pause, and Logan asked, "so how's everything out there, you doin' okay?"

"I'm good. What about you? You keeping up with things?" _Things,_ he grinned to himself, waiting for Cale's reply. Just another way he picked at his friend, mothering him about his daily ROM routine and knowing Logan would know exactly what he meant. He chuckled when he heard the familiar grunt in reply.

"As if I dare let it slide – I have you and Max threatening me if I even consider a day off."

"Good." Bling laughed, feeling nostalgic for the pissy banter he was hearing from the other end of the line. "Speaking of Max – she's alright?"

"She's perfect, as always." Logan paused, and with a new sound in his voice – almost sheepish – began, "so, listen ... the reason I called ... "

_Testing the waters,_ Bling suspected, his curiosity raised by his friend's manner. He waited for more...

"What would you think if ... we came out for a visit?"

"Are you kidding? That's great!" Bling grinned. "Whenever you want; as long as you can stay."

Logan's laugh in response was soft, and his voice sounded touched by Bling's enthusiasm. "Hey, look, if I need to give you time to think it over..." he drawled.

"I'm glad you're coming, man," Bling insisted. "I'm still holding out hope that you might like what you find out here."

There was another chuckle at the end of the line, and Logan said wryly, "yeah, well, this trip, I'm just along for the ride..." Logan's pause gave Bling time to frown slightly at the unexpected words. Just as the therapist had begun to suspect that his friend's hesitation was for dramatic effect, Logan went on. "Max got a job offer out there, Bling."

The words had to rate among the more surprising he'd ever heard from Cale, and as he blurted "what?" in reply, he heard Logan laughing, his own note of lingering surprise with events still there.

"The trip is for Max to check out a job offer."

"Where – Chicago?" Bling asked. _What sort of job would Max be offered,_ he wondered, _and by whom?_

The voice on the other end of the line warmed even more, in affection and gratitude. "Nope. _There._ At the elementary school." Logan paused again, as much appreciation in his tone as Bling had ever heard. "The job offer is as teacher's aide," Cale continued, "and Max wants us to come out and take a look." With one more pause, one carrying the smile that must be on his face, he finally said, "I think you might know the principal there."

Bling felt like flying, the intensity of his reaction surprising him. "I thought I did," he grinned, "but just when you think you know how special someone is, she goes and raises the bar." Almost afraid to press his luck, he dared, "any chance that the offer bringing you here means that this might work out?"

"Well, the timing is pretty good ... " Bling could imagine the expression that went with the wryly drawn response. "I had been looking into ways I might... you know... keep things going, as we discussed. I have some ideas." Bling felt his grin split his face as he listened, daring to find some hope in his friend's response. "Maybe we can talk about them when we come out."

"Absolutely." Bling felt lighter than he had in weeks. "When is this going to happen? If you're only here for a day or two I'll reschedule my appointments..."

"No, don't do that!" Logan returned immediately in mock horror. "We can't be responsible for _any_one missing their sacred ROMs..."

"Smart ass," Bling muttered, his voice warm with his feelings of friendship and anticipation.

"So we'll stay about a week. I understand there's even a hotel there in town that might let us in, so we don't have to be underfoot..."

"No one I'd rather have underfoot, man," Bling admitted. "When is this happening?"

"Next Tuesday too soon?"

"Tomorrow wouldn't be too soon. Next week, manageable."

"Bling – you know if we do this we have to work out some logistics – and probably need to fill Sandra on a few more things..."

"Before I even mentioned anything to you, I sounded her out about some of the security issues, mostly concerning the work, but implied that there might be more." Bling was careful, not knowing the level of privacy their line had, but knew Logan would understand. "So far, not a problem. We'll be okay," he promised, "and anything you want to see or check out – we'll fit it in."

"You got a hoop up anywhere out there?" Logan baited him.

"Are you kidding? This is Indiana, man. Try finding a garage that _doesn't_ have one attached."

"Then put some one on one on the list," Logan said, then added, "I'll send the flight information tonight." His voice had gone soft again, now sounding resigned, but less pained by his likely withdrawal than he had weeks ago. "Bling... thanks for hanging in with me on this ... with us. And give Sandra a huge hug, from me..."

"After she gets mine," Bling smiled, still amazed by what the woman he loved had managed – for Max and Logan ... for him. "Just let me know if there's anything you want or need for your stay."

"Nothing you wouldn't have thought of first," Logan offered. "Thanks, Bling."

"Looking forward to this, Logan. I'm glad you're making the trip." Bling felt the wide smile linger on his face for many long minutes after he ended his call. He had never doubted that his friend – his _friends_ – could be safer and happier leaving Seattle and all its risks behind, and now, finally, they would be coming out to take a look at the home Sandra had found.

Sandra. She had managed to pull Max and Logan closer to them, after all. Pulling out his phone again, Bling hit the speed dial to his home and when the call was answered, his smile lit up the road. "Sandra? Baby, you are one hell of a miracle worker..."

_**...to be continued...**_


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel borrowed, no profits realized. **

**A/N: Continuing events of _Asylum_ from Bling's point of view... **

_This one goes out to the handful of you who seem to be interested in this post-EO-revealed saga ... wish I could tell what it is about this one that seems to not work for most of the M/L faithful out there, but I'm still doing this one for me, I guess. Feel free to let me know why you don't like it (or, certainly why you do if you do)... but this AU hasn't let go of me yet. _

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_**Asylum:**_

_**Book II**_

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**May 10, 2023  
Later**

By the time Bling got home, he'd had enough time for his delight in the news to be tempered by the implications of Max and Logan coming to their small, uncomplicated town. The consequences in the community would probably be the hardest on Sandra, should either of his friends be followed and innocent locals be unlucky enough to get in their way. It was time to let her in on more of the secrets they'd bring, enough so she had an idea of how involved she might be. How much of the rest she'd learn, of course, would be up to Max...

Logan had told him before that any move such as this would involve a change of identities, false names and backgrounds for them both. It would all fall back on Sandra if it came out that Max and Logan had come here under assumed identities with her knowledge, given the trust and confidence everyone had shown her. And if anything should happen, their being pursued here, let alone anything happen to the children at her school, Sandra might be blamed for bringing trouble to their sleepy, contented town. Bling believed he could say, in all honesty, that the likelihood of that wasn't great... but it was a possibility. And any possibility, even if remote, had to be fully considered by Sandra before bringing Max in as an employee. Again Bling wondered if they should deny that she'd known the couple at all, back in Seattle, and offer her at least some distance that way.

Still ... Sandra had a teacher's fierceness about honesty, and about her students' safety. Becoming a principal made that fierceness even more intense, and she wore her responsibility more heavily than ever. He loved her for these traits, as much as for her efforts, clearly on his behalf too, to bring Max and Logan here. For all of that, she was owed as much of the truth as was his to give.

He let himself in the back door, as usual, the warm, low lights in the kitchen now spelling home and comfort to him. If Logan and Max would join them here it would be perfect: not only having friends close by, to enjoy time with them again, but having them in a place where they'd be safer than they were in Seattle, near enough that he wouldn't keep thinking about them, worrying about what might be happening, worrying about Logan's ROM and his overall health when he pushed himself ceaselessly, his safety amid all the crackpots and criminals who swore revenge for all of Eyes Only's successful attacks on their illicit activities... worrying about Max's relentless pursuers, those government-supported Frankensteins who not only played with human life and the youngsters they created as if they were just bacteria on a slide, but then spent years tracking them, as if they were stolen property, and not individuals with as much right to live free, just as any other human born in this country...

The sound of his entry brought Sandra up and into the kitchen, wearing a silken robe and a big, pleased smile. "Hi, baby," she crooned. Clearly, she was delighted he'd been so pleased with her surprise, and wanted to extend the pleasure through the night. It wasn't hard at all to return the smile and take her into his arms, he reflected as they stood entwined, not speaking yet, in their safe, cozy kitchen. But she needed to hear more before they could be completely at ease with her plan to bring Max and Logan here...

"I have some dinner for you, in the fridge." Sandra barely pulled back from him to look up into his eyes, coquettishly. "It won't take a minute to warm up. Unless you'd rather have a little something else, before dinner...?"

Her hands had played up his back as she spoke, slipping under his shirt, and now circled around to admire his chest and shoulders. With a surrendering chuckle he pulled her close, kissing her deeply. _What the hell,_ he figured, scooping her easily into his arms and carrying her toward their bedroom. _First things first ... and a bit of explanation over dinner, after a while..._

**May 10, 2023  
Even Later**

Bling had followed Sandra out to the kitchen, where she had pulled out the salad she'd made for him when making her own dinner hours earlier, and was now reheating some curry to go with it. As he crossed over to their breakfast nook to sit, she buzzed him happily with a kiss and was humming to herself as she heated the curry.

_It was a good a time as any to hear something like this, _he hoped.

He waited until she brought the curry over to the table and sat across from him, joining him as she often did now for his late dinner. Not only a late dinner, but rather late on a school night for her, to start a conversation like this. Still, he needed to be up front with her immediately, before things went too far.

"Sandra – before Max and Logan come out ... there are some things you need to know. They might affect everyone's plans, as much as I hope they'll still come..." She looked puzzled at his words, given his enthusiastic call from the car and the appreciation he'd shown earlier that evening, but she waited for him to continue. "Have you said anything to anyone yet, about offering Max the job, mentioned her name, anything?" he began.

She shook her head slowly, "no, I wanted to see if she was interested, and if they'd be coming out here before I made any plans. It will take some switching around of the funding I just got for the fall to add Max onto the staff, so I wasn't going to mess with any of it until they planned a move."

"And no names mentioned?"

"No – BL, what...?"

He shook his head and explained, "you know why I want Logan out here – ever since he was outed as Eyes Only, there have been threats, stalkers, probably others even more dangerous who haven't tipped their hand about the payback they want. Max is in danger too, because she's been connected to him. If they were to come out here ... Logan wouldn't come out here as Logan Cale, Sandra. He'll have a new name, a whole new identity. If anyone this far from Seattle has even heard of Eyes Only it's probably only from the hacks, and would be less likely to know what he looks like, or that he's in a wheelchair, so it's a good place for him to make a new start without much danger of his being recognized, physically. But names and records can be traced – so he'll take steps to sever all ties between himself and who he was. He'll do the same for Max. Baby, if they come here, you're going to be asked to keep that confidence – for their safety." He saw Sandra register the seriousness of his words, the threats to his friends, and she nodded slowly. "I know how you feel about deception and hiding things..."

In fact, Bling knew exactly how she felt, from the two days it took her to wrap her mind around how involved he was in Eyes Only's work, and all he knew, without having revealed one iota of it to her before Logan was discovered ... and knew the reason it took her "only" two days to get past it all was that she had realized very quickly how critical it was for such information to remain secret. He watched as she drew a long breath.

"I do ... when the world isn't upside down, as it's become for Logan and Max." Sandra's soft brown eyes carried her concern for their friends. "If they could come out and make a life here, it would be worth it."

"No one would have to know that you knew them, from before. Maybe if we said Logan had just been a patient of mine ... that part's true, even if we do say it was under a different name than it was..."

"'In for a penny, BL, in for a pound,'" she quoted, wryly.

"Yeah." He took a long drink of the iced tea she'd put in front of him, and said softly, "I was just thinking the same thing." She had taken the first part so well, he wondered what she'd make of the rest. "Baby, there's more ... especially because you're talking about hiring Max." He spoke carefully, knowing he wouldn't be able to tell her everything but needing her to understand that there was so much more, involving even more people who played for keeps. "The secrecy is obvious for Logan – the fallout from this work as Eyes Only, not only the revenge factor, but people begging him for money or help or both. And it's true that there are concerns for Max, because of her connection to Logan. Hell, she was jumped in his parking garage not long before I came out, an attempted kidnaping, apparently. But beyond all that – there are separate concerns for Max, too – maybe even more so than for Logan, if the wrong people decided they wanted to find her."

"Max?" Sandra frowned. "Why, BL? What did she do?"

"Nothing, I promise you. Just like Logan, she's being pursued for what she has that others want – not anything she's done." He sighed. "I can't tell you everything I know, Sandra; the story isn't mine to tell. But Logan and Max agree that you need to know at least some of this before they come out – and Max might fill you in on more of it, if you wanted to know. What I'm going to tell you now I'm saying with her knowledge and her blessing – because, if we all end up out here, it's because of your efforts paving the way. And you need to know this, especially now that you were good enough to find a way they could join us out here."

Sandra's eyes had grown large, sensing the import in the information, given his words. _That's good; she sees that it's big,_ he reflected. _Maybe it sounds a little melodramatic, but given that the circumstances **are** rather melodramatic, it's fitting._

"Sandra ... when Max was a child, she was a part of a covert government project, mostly one, huge experiment in human potential. She underwent rigorous training and was the subject of non-stop testing, to see how she and the other children would fare. For years, these kids were hidden away in a remote facility, and the program completely off the books. They were all part of a plan to see if exceptional human subjects could be developed."

"Hidden away? But what about their families, the authorities...?" Sandra asked, incredulous.

"Max and the children with her had no families, no one knew they existed; they _didn't_ exist, thanks to those in charge. The 'authorities' were the ones running the show. Those involved in this project – there were dozens involved, doctors, educators, military people – somehow, I don't know, with threats, or bribes, whatever, they went along in keeping the secret. And for almost a decade, these kids were programmed to be little super-soldiers, making them stronger and more ... gifted ... than average. They did horrific experiments on these children, Sandra, when they were two, three, four years old -- testing to see how long they could be held under water without breathing, how long they could remain outside in the snow, undressed, before they'd succumb to hypothermia ... their bones were broken to see how quickly they could repair themselves..."

"_Why?"_ The teacher recoiled in horror. "What possible reason would the government of a civilized society have...?"

"The same reason other societies have tried variations of the same thing," Bling said softly, a bitter note in his voice. "Either to build a better human – here, a better soldier – or to test the limits of what a human can tolerate, how to disable our enemies, how to beat them." He looked at Sandra. "Even the last century is full of examples. Dr. Mengele ... the 'Tuskegee Experiment' in Alabama. And with them, twenty years ago in Wyoming ... our own federal government." He saw the thought register, and continued, "when Max was about nine, she and some of the other children managed to escape."

"Nine years old...?" Sandra echoed. "Without help?"

"The project included military-style survival training, escape and evasion tactics. I have no idea how she managed to take that sort of training and convert it to surviving in the city, hiding out from special ops types, especially seeing how she'd never been away from the base and surrounding woods to even see a city. But she and the others did it, on their own ... probably in large part thanks to the Pulse happening not long after." He sighed. "She's been on the run from them – or from the handful who know about the project – ever since."

"But ... BL, how could it have happened without anyone hearing about it? You were in black ops –how could they have done this all, _really_, without it getting out?"

"Outside of those involved on the base where they had the program, out in the middle of nowhere, only a select few people knew, clearly without any oversight and with no accountability," Bling murmured, still angry to know it had been going on at the same time he had been a part of the same government's navy. "If it had gotten out to the right people I'm sure it would have all been shut down, immediately, but... they managed to keep a lid on it all. And not only are those out there who would be interested in using Max and her abilities for their own ends – Logan's learned, over time, that many of those who worked on the project have mysteriously disappeared, died strange deaths -- it appears that someone is still trying to be sure no one lets this information out. If Max is still being pursued, that may be one of the reasons -- the fear that what happened might be made known publicly." He watched as Sandra digested the information, knowing it was a lot, but pressing on, given all that needed to be addressed. "One small reason for hope, though – recently, Max has suspected that some of those who were tracking her originally might have decided to hang back, maybe even have given up trying to bring her in. Clearly she's been traced by at least one of them and no one's quite sure if he's friend or foe anymore – or some sort of lunatic in-between. But it's not clear who all has information about the project now; some of the information may have made it to other governments or private concerns that would want to exploit Max's skills for their own gains."

"Max's ... skills?" Sandra dared, stunned, but still hanging in with him.

For the first time in this, Bling smiled a little, musing at Sandra's ability to take it all in, given not only the extraordinary information about what their government had done, but that it had involved those smallest and least able to object – _children, she'd think, just like those she had in her school._ Sandra didn't need to know that Max and the others had been engineered; it was the part Max always found the most difficult to consider, the part that for so long made her worry that she wasn't quite human ... it was the part that made her skills so coveted -- and her blood, her ova, not to mention her willing allegiance-- so valuable.

He minimized this part of his response. "Imagine sort of a souped-up bodyguard. An insertion team of one, a reconnaissance squad in one human package. Or a ninja with extra sharp eyes and ears." _If Sandra were to ever learn the rest of what Max was trained to do – could she hear it all this easily?_ he found himself wondering. " Just about everything I learned in the SEALs, but she was nurtured on it, from birth until she escaped," he concluded, moving on to explain, "After all this time, it could be she'll be left alone – but maybe not, depending on a number of factors. Bottom line, Sandra – there have been a lot of people over the years who would have done about anything to catch Max or the others, even kill – _have_ killed – to keep this project secret and to round up the ones who escaped. And there's no guarantee that's over with." He looked to the woman sitting close to him, still listening intently, and offered, "If they came looking for her, Max would be the only one they want, so it's not that others would be packed off with her anywhere – but there's no way to know how careful they'd be about those they thought were in their way. Max is pretty good at knowing when something is going down and would do all in her power, I know, to avoid anyone else being in the middle of things. But the possibility still exists..."

"The possibility that they could come looking for her, while she was at school." Sandra nodded, speaking heavily. It wasn't a question now.

Bling explained, "With government ops, they probably wouldn't want to run the risk of a crowd, like they'd find in school – witnesses, publicity if it leaked out – the impact of something happening around so many children. Same thing, probably, for any militia or similarly oriented types. But there just are no guarantees, Sandra..." When she nodded again, slowly, considering, Bling suggested, "look – if you're okay with the idea of having them here, and if Max and Logan like it here, they can still come out. It's not like she _needs_ the job. And I really do think it's a good sign for her, she's been in Seattle so long without anyone really moving to take her. Same thing for Logan, that those hounding him haven't been good enough to get the job done – there are those really dangerous ones who could have done it easily by now, if they'd wanted to go to the effort. Maybe they figure an outed Eyes Only isn't a threat anymore, and will leave him alone." He looked at the woman he loved, assessing, wondering if he could read her thoughts from her expression and her questions. "But baby, it's only fair you know who – or what – could follow either of them out here, if they were discovered. You were brought out here by this town, the school – and we all know how you feel about it here. None of us wants to come between you and the people who have welcomed you into their children's lives. If it's all too much, Max and Logan could find another town like this, anywhere, and make their own start. You know that."

"Not one where they have a friend like you, waiting for them." Sandra looked deep into his eyes, as if looking for more, then let her eyes fall to the table top, unseeing. After a moment, not looking up, she said softly, "I do love it here, and I love the kids ... but I love you too, and I care about Max and Logan just as much as I do the kids here." She looked back up to Bling, and tried, "it's so unfair, you know? Logan has done for so much, for so many, at such a price ... the last thing he should have to worry about is running away, and losing his identity. And Max..." she shook her head as her brow furrowed. "...to think, what monsters they must have been, to do that to _children_..." Bling saw the familiar signs of Sandra's fierce protectiveness as her thoughts reached out to enfold his friends, as if already sheltering them from more of the onslaught against them. "If you really do think the worst is past, and they won't be followed out here..." she said softly, pausing before she added, " and if Max really wants to work with the kids..."

"She does, Sandra... she just wants you to know what it might mean."

Her gaze softened. "Poor Max..." she murmured, as Bling saw the overwhelming sense of unfairness guide her thoughts – maybe leading her to imagine her own students being made to suffer\what Max had been though. "And here I'd been thinking that nothing could be worse than what Logan's facing, these days." She looked back up at him. "They _need_ to come out here, with us... if they decide that's what they want."

"Well, look, no matter what ... we'll say that Logan was my patient; no reason to say that either of us knew Max before, or that you'd even met Logan..."

"If they come out, I won't avoid taking responsibility for my decision to ask them to join us here," she said softly. "They deserve a good life and I think they might find it here. And I hope that if ever it becomes known that they came out with a new name and new identity, that people here might understand." She smiled a small smile at that to admit, "maybe that's naive, or just wishful thinking – but I'd rather be faulted for keeping a confidence than for lying about what I knew."

"Sandra, you have to think about what it will mean to have Max with the children every day..."

She looked at him with a sudden question. "Because of those looking for her..." she began, "not because of Max, something in her training..."

"Oh, no," he was quick to assure her. "No, if anything, no one is in safer hands than in Max's – especially kids, I would think. Or Logan," he allowed himself a small, soft laugh in memory. "It's just that those interested in her would know they need a pretty big offensive to take her."

Sandra's quiet surprise at that lingered for a moment, as it looked as if she might ask what he meant, but her questioning look shifted to a thoughtful one. In another moment, she spoke again. "You'd never know it, to talk with her. She seems just like any other girl, just trying to get by." Her eyes softened as she remembered, "I wish you could have heard her when I called to talk with her about this, BL. She got really excited about it. It was if the idea had never occurred to her, that she could work with kids, and as I told her all she could do for us, she just seemed to warm to the idea so much..."

Bling could imagine the Max he knew and her reaction to such an offer. He'd long suspected that she was left unchallenged, for the most part, by her job as a messenger, and she'd probably never dreamed she could work as a teacher, given the school and licensing requirements, the scrutiny she might face in landing a job. That, coupled with her past... "Max has a special place in her heart for kids. It goes back to those first years..."

At the reminder, Sandra's eyes flashed again. "We have to get them to come here to stay, BL. I'd been thinking that especially for Logan, for all he's done and all he's been through, that he deserves some peace. Now you're telling me that Max does too, maybe even more so, if that's possible." She looked back up at him, eyes boring in to his, demanding his absolute candor. "I trust you, baby, you know I do, and I trust your judgment. Not talking about whomever it is who are after them – are Max and Logan all you've said? Is there any doubt in your mind at all that they are as good and honorable as you've said, all this time?"

He didn't hesitate. "None at all."

Her gaze lingered several more moments, assessing, and she finally nodded. "Then I'm in. And we get them out here. The sooner the better." As he looked at her with some curiosity, sensing that she had an idea starting to form, Sandra shrugged. "It's only May now. If they can get out here and we see what happens... Max starts back with me in July to get things ready for the fall... and if August comes and there's no sign of trouble ... Max can have that job with the kids."

**May 16, 2023**

The afternoon sun had started its languid, slow slip down along the western sky, so that shadows in the bright light had begun to lengthen, and the bees buzzing around the flowers in the front yard had thinned down to only a few stragglers. Bling had spent his day at the clinic in town, where he tended to a wrenched shoulder, provided a monthly prenatal check-up, renewed a tetanus shot and placed a few stitches in between three sessions of PT for pleased patients who again expressed their appreciation that they no longer had to drive thirty miles and back for their therapy. Now he was at home and restless, unable to stay inside, looking for casual excuses to wander out in the yard and on down their long driveway, peering up the quiet street and pacing back up near the porch but never back up the steps...

One time, in his pacing, he saw Sandra's face bob by the window and, catching his eye, smile her understanding, to which he offered a sheepish grin. _Busted._ He was completely transparent in this. She didn't come out or call to him, but merely let him wander back down the driveway, dinner aside and waiting, prepared with an uncertain arrival time in mind. Bling smiled to think of his dinner guest, and if he'd be as impressed as Bling thought he might be at the quality and variety of the fresh fruits and vegetables they were able to find here, even this early in the season, as well as the bounty of food they could find on the shelves of the nearby Amish open market, in the endless rows of glass canning jars, capturing home-grown tomatoes, peaches, green beans and more all in their fresh-picked glory ... one of the small town perqs the big-city boy might not be anticipating, Bling mused, hoping it would help build enthusiasm for the move. He was so sure they could be happy here, if they'd let themselves be...

His sharp ears heard a car motor, the first in many minutes, nearing the bend where their quiet street met the road back into town. Walking back toward the end of the drive, he saw, rounding into view, a nondescript, grey SUV, nothing eye-catching or out of the ordinary ... the perfect vehicle for a nice, normal couple, looking to start a new life ...

... he wasn't aware of the smile that crossed his features as he stood in his yard, watching them close the distance to his house, but could see the ones on the faces of his friends as they came near: Max's pretty face shining over the steering wheel as she drove ... and the unforgettable face of his friend, his employer ... Eyes Only ... with a tired but happy grin beginning, at the sight of his long-missed trainer...

**To be continued.**


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel borrowed, no profits realized. **

**A/N: Continuing events of _Asylum_ from Bling's point of view... **

_Offered in thanks to those who are still reading this story, to those who ask about other stories, and to those who take the time to comment, review, and otherwise chime in. Apologies to any of you who took my recent ramblings on DAR as criticism, etc. Oh, for time traveling abilities..._

_And, ever and always, **all** comments appreciated. _

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_**Asylum:**_

_**Book II**_

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**May 16, 2023**

Bling came up to walk alongside the grey SUV as it pulled into his driveway. His wide smile split his handsome features as the window wound down and Logan's arm reached out toward him. As the men's palms clasped in a warm, firm grip, Logan spoke first. "Bling, man, it's great to see you"

"Even better to have you out here," the therapist grinned, his genuine pleasure at their arrival hiding his renewed concern that Logan still looked exhausted. He leaned over a bit to look in the window at the driver on the other side of the car. "Hey Max–"

"Bling; hey..." Max smiled for him.

_Logan might look peaked, but Max was as vibrant as ever,_ Bling noted. He suspected she was as anxious as he was to have Logan get away from Seattle and Eyes Only for a break from it all, no matter how brief. "Pull on around to the back, Max, plenty of room to park back there."

With a welcoming squeeze of Logan's shoulder, Bling stepped away from the window, then followed the SUV back along the drive as Max pulled up by the back door. Both doors had swung open as he approached, and as Logan reached around to pull out his chair, Max hopped out and came around the vehicle for a warm hug from Bling. "Sure missed you guys," he said to her, softly.

"We missed you too." When their hug loosened a moment later, Max leaned back and smiled at him, meaningfully. In the space of their greeting, Logan had assembled his chair and was mid-transfer from the car when Sandra came out.

"You made it!" She called to them, her face shining with her beaming smile. Still arm in arm with Bling, Max turned toward her, and Bling saw the emotion rising in Sandra's eyes, no matter how hard she tried to hold it back. Coming over immediately to Max, Sandra opened her arms for a hug, and Bling saw the tears she'd promised she wouldn't shed spill over before ten seconds had passed.

His attention was drawn from the scene by a low chuckle, and he looked to see Logan, whose face, Bling was pleased to note, was already shifting from the tired, drawn look he'd seen at first into the more settled, gently amused expression he saw now. Logan caught Bling's eye. "So you've told her," he mused.

Bling offered a subtle, wry half-nod, but Max and Sandra pulled back from their hug, Max looking at Sandra, steadily. "Thank you," she acknowledged, summing up, in the two short words, their trip, the week ahead, and Sandra's efforts on their behalf.

"We're really glad you came," Sandra smiled to Max, the tears swimming in her eyes making them unnaturally bright. Turning to her other guest, she went over and, still blinking a little, gave him a big hug. "Logan – it's so good to see you..."

"Hey, Sandra." The hug returned by Logan was just as warm as hers was. "Thanks for getting us here." Logan's voice was soft, appreciative.

Bling felt that unsettled feeling he'd carried around for weeks now start to fade, seeing Logan with Sandra, seeing Max at his side, here to find out if Sandra could provide them a way to make the same move that he had. As the women pulled back from their hug, Bling looked at the visiting couple and offered the most relaxed, completely heartfelt smile he'd managed for a while now. "C'mon in, you two."

The women went ahead and as Bling held the door for his friend, Logan tipped his head toward the short wooden ramp secured to the side of the step for wheeled entry. "You _were_ expecting company," he tried, not sure how to express his appreciation that, as always with Bling, none of those awkward little barriers to the chair would be left unaddressed.

Bling shrugged, understanding the man's thoughts. "Comes with the territory," he minimized. He followed Logan in through the kitchen, noting with a private chuckle that Logan's discomfort evaporated quickly as his former charge looked around the cozy, old-fashioned kitchen with interest, eying the copper clad saucepans on the overhead rack and smiling his approval at the herbs growing along the window, before moving into the wide living room to meet the women.

"Nice," Max was looking around the room appreciatively. She looked longingly at the big brick fireplace, and asked, "it works?"

Sandra nodded, "it does, but we haven't used it yet – it was already too warm for a fire when we moved in. But it will get lots of use," she grinned, siding over to Bling with a warm, hopeful look in her eye, "it can get really cold and snowy here in the winter."

With a smile to Sandra in return, Bling turned back to his guests. "You're sure you two wouldn't rather stay out here, with us? We have plenty of room..."

Logan nodded. "Thanks, but it might be better to stay in town, maybe not seem to be more than friendly acquaintances, you know, just in case. Besides, that way we can sniff out the place on our own, see what's going on without pulling either of you in too deeply here at first. We can establish ourselves a bit now, in the event that we're able to make the move here, too."

"But you'll stay for dinner, of course," Sandra announced, firmly, "and you must be famished by now. We can eat any time you're ready..."

"'Now' works for me," Max laughed, turning to Sandra. "What can I do to help? I'm not much of a cook but I can set the table and move stuff from pots into bowls."

_She's good,_ Bling thought, _Sandra would never see it, and maybe even Logan didn't notice, probably assuming it's Max's insatiable appetite that made her answer._ But Bling had seen her several glances toward Logan since they'd arrived, watching for his reaction, evaluating his responses. Briefly he wondered if there was something more, if Logan had been ill, or had new crises added to his ever lengthening list, but from her behavior, it seemed to be just chronic 'looking after Logan.' He knew the condition well _... and Max is thinking he needs to unwind and catch up on some sleep, but that he won't do it until after they can visit for a while. So chatting over dinner will be just about right..._

"It's all ready, Max; you can just relax," Sandra assured her.

"Then I'll keep you company and you can tell me about your school," Max offered, smoothly, "'cos I think the men want to talk 'sports' or some kind of manly-man talk like that."

Sandra glanced toward Bling as she, too, now started to recognize Max's protectiveness for Logan, and his smile settled in for them both. _Already seems as if Max is determined to make this work_, Bling mused. _Wonder how Logan really feels about it?_ He watched the women move out to the kitchen before turning back to his friend, whose tired green eyes met his. "So you gonna tell me how things really are going out there these days?"

Logan wavered, as if thinking about offering some whitewashed version of life for the outed Eyes Only, but shrugged to admit, "we're here, aren't we?" At Bling's troubled look in response, Logan recanted a little to offer a wan smile. "About the same as when you left. Not too bad, all things considered."

"But not too good."

Logan nodded vaguely, his eyes softening, apparently focusing on matters many miles away. In only a moment, though, he drew a sudden, deep breath to bring his thoughts back to his host. "So we're here." He mustered a smile that actually had some genuine meaning behind it now, and said, wryly, "I missed having you around to kick my ass."

Bling's concern was lessened only by his hope that Logan seemed to be genuinely thinking of relocating there, in this new home Sandra had found for them. With a soft laugh he admitted, "Sandra is far less stubborn than you are. I miss having such an easy target." He paused a moment before pressing, as Logan would expect him to, "you getting in your work-outs alright?" At Logan's soft, grudgingly appreciative response that he was, Bling pressed, "ever get back to basketball?'

The question seemed to remind Logan of the many ways his life had changed with the outing of his alter ego, and there was a sad note in his response. "Once in a while. Corey's been able to put together a few last minute pick-up games, so word doesn't get out too far about where we'll be. The coach at his kids' school has let us use the gym, some evenings. But any place we used to play, especially at the outdoor courts..." he sighed, "someone notices. Corey said that with any game they play out on a public court, even now, eventually a few show up, apparently looking around to see if I'm there too. I guess they figure basketball playing guys in chairs are a small enough population that odds are good I might be one of them."

"I'm sorry, Logan." Bling had seen firsthand what happened when a game was interrupted by the press, or by those who thought that Eyes Only should lend them a hand, for whatever they thought they needed. It became frequent – and disruptive – enough that Logan just stopped playing for a time. Bling wondered if, deep down, among all the changes since Eyes Only had been discovered, _that_ was the one that Logan hated the most. _It was the one that cost him the most, for both his physical and mental well being_, Bling thought to himself for the dozenth time. "I'd give anything to be able to tell you I had a team here ready and waiting for you," the therapist began, "but I'm afraid the town here is small enough that getting together all the chair users here who are in any condition to play even one quarter – and then I joined in, too – we could probably manage one on one. _Probably,_" he repeated, making his point. He was heartened when he saw Logan's smile grow slowly as he finally laughed a little, shaking his head in surrender. "However," Bling went on, "the hospital where I work is in a place big enough to honestly be called a city. Small, but full of possibility. I've been putting out feelers. You get yourself out here, we can see about getting enough players together to get some real ball in. We're in the right place for basketball, man."

Logan nodded, his smile now faint but lingering, even so. After a moment of silence, he sighed, admitting, "I never thought it would end like this, Bling. I figured it would be another bullet ... or prison ... or a fast dash over the border to Canada with the Feds – or the underworld – or both – on my tail. Not with scandal rag attention and people camping out for a piece of the pie." Bling knew he was fighting to keep the bitter edge out of his voice, but he couldn't hide it completely.

Bling shrugged. "Even so – it's got to be better than the bullet or prison – even better than being run out of the country. You've got most of your personal assets intact; you've had time to put things in place to leave, and to think things through. And, you have a way to keep Eyes Only going, even if you're not called that anymore – or if you're not working through cable hacks." Bling looked long at the man before him, remembering the many weeks he'd spent working to convince him that Eyes Only hadn't been lost to Bruno Anselmo's bullet. "I know you pretty well by now, Logan – and I know if anyone can get things up and running again, from damn near anywhere – you can."

As Bling watched, Logan's eyes again dropped away, wrestling with the necessity of giving up his hope that his life in Seattle could be restored to what it had been, at least any time soon. Finally, he drew a deep breath and looked his friend square in the eye. "Bling, you've pulled me out of worse holes than this one. I don't know why now would be any different."

"We're ready if you are," Max called from the kitchen, as she moved toward the dining table with a steaming bowl in her hands.

The men looked at each other, her words an unwitting challenge to Logan as well. After a moment, facing his future – Logan snorted. Rolling his eyes and hanging his head for a moment, dramatically, he lifted it again to grin, relaxing, finally, into the inevitable. As Bling stood, Logan's eyes followed him and he spoke, softly. "I think maybe we are..."

Bling watched Logan as he went on toward the table, talking to the women as they brought the last dishes out to the table. _Does he really **see** the possibilities?_ Bling wondered. _Does he see how easily Max and Sandra work together? Can he imagine himself working here, writing or investigating the sorts of cases Eyes Only used to do? _

Bling saw that Logan was relaxing a little more, slipping more back into himself as he came to the table, looking with interest at the dinner Sandra had prepared and asking about the herbs he'd seen growing on the window ledge. As the four sat down to dinner, Max and Logan described their trip to Indiana, their flight to Chicago and drive over from there, the careful switch of identities they made before renting the car that brought them and the game they'd made, both on the plane and in the car, of weaving little stories between them of their new identities. "Just in case," Max added, as if to reassure Sandra that things weren't in stone yet until they could _all_ assess the results of their visit. "Wherever we end up, we'll need to have our identities locked in. So ... we filled in with those little stories about who we are"

Sandra nodded, thoughtfully, before asking carefully, "so ... who _are _you now?" She hadn't let the opportunity pass to ease into the topic, her curiosity clearly taking charge. She looked to Logan, then Max, and finally back to Logan, sensing that he took the lead in this.

"Robert Eastman, from Yakima, Washington." The former cyberjournalist smiled softly.

Bling turned to Sandra, filling her in while letting Max and Logan know that Sandra hadn't heard all that much yet about their preparations for the trip. "Logan's created false identities for a lot of people over the years, who were in danger because of helping Eyes Only get the word out ... or people who got on the wrong side of officials powerful enough to make the whistle-blowers disappear. To be on the safe side, he set up a few for himself, too, and for Max, in case they were in trouble themselves." He hoped she'd understand that the identities they'd assumed were carefully crafted and would take some doing to unravel.

Logan picked up the thought. "A couple I started a while back, so that the information was out in the system for at least a year or so. And the records are scattered around – universities, banks, credit card companies, medical facilities...all of them, with a normal amount of activity on accounts and files, so they'd appear to be the real thing, at least on first pass. Enough to get by most initial security sweeps."

Sandra blinked a little, the enormity seeming to sink in. _Good,_ Bling thought. _She gets it. Maybe she sees both the seriousness of all this, and how carefully Logan would have planned for this. And because it involves Max, _he mused to himself,_ he would have been especially cautious..._

But Sandra smiled, gamely, and, indicating herself and Bling, tried, "how well do we know Robert Eastman?"

Logan's expression shifted slightly, and Bling could now see his gratitude for Sandra's ready willingness to go with the plan. "I was on assignment close to Seattle a few years ago, and was in an accident – and ended up in the hospital there as Sam Carr's patient. On Sam's recommendation, I stayed on for rehab, on Bling's caseload. After that, we would run into each other, once in a while; not quite drinking buddies, but there's that connection you develop with a therapist..." The eyes had turned back to Bling's with a genuine appreciation, even beyond what 'Robert Eastman' might have felt, and Bling grinned in response. "And, after the hospital," Logan – 'Robert' – resumed, "I looked around for a while, but couldn't get any steady work. So, we hit the road," he smiled now toward Max, including her again, "telling ourselves we were just taking a break, seeing the country, and visiting an old friend along the way. But, something we haven't even really admitted to ourselves yet – we're really looking for a place to make a new start."

"What kind of job was so tough that I couldn't get you ready to return to work?" Bling challenged, almost sounding as if he was taking the news about this imaginary rehab failure personally. _Keep it light, keep it moving forward ... you've come this far, Logan, you're doing great; no slipping back now..._ he coached, mentally.

Logan's smile curled upward, slowly. "TV cameraman. Care to tell me how I can carry a portable TV camera, film the action and move, all at once?"

Bling smirked, snorting a little for effect. "We could've come up with something..." _He just might be coming to terms with all this_, Bling was starting to believe. _Once he was ready to entertain the idea, he's willing to go with it? _

"Maybe I was just a stubborn patient."

"Maybe?" Bling's grin was back in full force now, as he felt himself start to relax a little more, too...

As he chuckled, 'Robert' continued, "so I have my disability checks to help support us, which we're told may stretch a bit further out here in the Midwest, away from the more expensive coast, closer to the areas where recovery is a bit further along." He paused to look back again at Max, his eyes and smile softening for her, Bling noted. _Not here two hours and he already looks better_, he mused, _and I know that's not just my wishful thinking. Max sees it too..._

"What about you, Max?" Sandra was saying. She must have seen the look from Logan as well, because she had waited a few seconds before asking, as if giving them that shared moment between them. But it was only a very few seconds; Bling knew that the curiosity she'd been nursing all week was not going to be held off that easily. "Who are you?"

"Linda Eastman," she smiled.

Sandra's eyes rounded a little and reacted, testing the idea on several levels, "you're married!"

Max smiled, almost self-consciously, Bling thought. _Definitely happily._ And as a new thought took root, Bling watched as she nodded, then turned to Logan with a laugh, "What is it now, 'honey,' three years?"

"Two years, eight months. You're not supposed to forget how long until at least two decades pass," he smirked.

But Bling's attention now was split between the "Eastmans" on one side, and Sandra on the other, as he saw a very slight trace of disappointment in her expression. _She'd hoped it was a real marriage..._

He realized he did too, but wasn't quite as ready as Sandra to give up hope. Clearly, they were now a couple, more intertwined than a ceremony or wedding band would ever make them. Bling prodded, turning to Max, "tell us about Linda."

"Well, she's from Los Angeles originally and made her way up north after high school ... she fit in an odd semester here and there around Sacramento, then in a community college in Salem, and kept heading north." Throughout, Max's tone had been light, engaged, as if she saw this as an adventure. _Working to move her principle to a safe place is anything but a lark,_ Bling observed, _and this principle happens to be the man she loves._ But despite the seriousness of her task, Bling sensed that Max really _was_ feeling some freedom at the thought of the move. _You would too_, he chastened himself, _look how having him here made **you** relax._ He focused again on Max's words. "After the Pulse, best job a college girl could get was waiting tables – you work at the right places, the tips can go pretty far, and usually there was a way to get your meals for free, so money could go to tuition," she explained.

Sandra lay down her fork, more interested in the story now than in her dinner. _She's taking it all in, _Bling saw. _She'll know their history as well as they do. Another result of the Pulse, that a principal from a sheltered, middle class life is so adept at jumping into intrigue and deception?_ Bling felt a brief sadness that Sandra had to get sucked into a world in which he and the other two had been living these past years, even if she had only to be on guard that it might follow them here. But Sandra was nodding now, smiling in irony at the never-ending battle to keep tuition paid and the basics covered, even for an imaginary college student. "Where did you and Robert meet?"

"Coffee shop." Max grinned, glancing at Logan, and giving her answer as if she were taking an exam she knew she'd pass. "He bought."

"I wanted to say I was sent to cover a beauty contest and fell for the winner, but Max thought it would be too easy to check winners' lists." Logan teased, then softened a little, a shift in his expression noticeable to Bling's practiced eye. _Guilt? His lingering worry that he was dragging Max away from friends and family? How could he still not see the look she had in her eyes for him, at least not enough to know he needn't worry?_

"I don't think Linda's the type, anyway," Max offered, still looking at Logan as she responded to his words. _She sees it and won't let him feel guilty for long. Good for you, Max... _

Bling watched them both, trying not to appear to be watching as closely as he was, but when Logan's eyes lifted back to his, he saw understanding dawn, followed by Logan's rueful chuckle, "Old habits die hard?" He glanced, slightly self-conscious, toward the women to explain, "Bling's trying really hard not to show he's still a mother hen..."

But it was Sandra who broke the tension. Sliding her hand over to cover Bling's, she chuckled toward him, "well then, you might as well give that up, baby, because we _all_ have your number on that one." Glancing at the grins from their guests, Sandra looked back to the therapist and promised, "it's probably what we all love most about you, that big ol' heart you have in there under all those muscles."

_And just how is a man supposed to respond to that?_ he wondered, feeling a rare, but pleased, embarrassment working to color his cheeks...

"...so with the mother hen having his chicks here to keep a closer eye on them..." Sandra raised her wineglass in a late, but still heartfelt salute to their guests, "we are both delighted and relieved to have you out here, with us now. And we want more than anything to have you stay..."

Bling raised his glass as they others did, and all four glasses clinked in soft, ringing tones, sealing the couple's future. "Hear, hear..." he added, softly...

**TBC...**


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel borrowed, no profits realized. **

**A/N: The events of **_**Asylum**_** from Bling's point of view... **

_Thanks to those of you hanging in with this. If you're still out there, please drop in a comment and let me know if this is working for you or not ... _

_A very special thanks to Mari 83 for giving this a once-over and sending me her thoughts & ideas. Thanks once again for taking the time from your endless stack of books! (Don't know if it turned out quite as you anticipated, but you'll see what you helped add! ;)_

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_**Asylum:**_

_**Book II**_

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**May 17, 2023**

Bling walked into the school at 8:50 a.m., as planned. Even when taking a rare day off, Sandra felt compelled to get to the school before anyone did, to be sure all was ready for the morning and to be available for her teachers or parents before the students arrived to start their day. She'd been there for over two hours already, and as he walked down the hall toward her office, Bling could hear that things were humming along, classes underway.

In the two months since he'd arrived, Bling had been in this school, this hallway, countless times, to the point where it too had become home, familiar and comfortable. But this morning, acutely aware that Max and Logan were _here_, in this peaceful, pleasant town, Bling found himself looking at all this again through new eyes, and thought yet again that they might actually have a chance for a normal life here, in such a quiet, _normal_ setting.

During dinner the night before, he'd watched both Logan and Max carefully, wanting to get a sense of this trip, for them. He'd wondered endlessly, after Logan had called to say they were coming, just how ready either of them were to make a move cross-country. And what he'd suspected had been borne out so far: Logan had mulled it over, analyzed and considered and then mulled it all again, before finally deciding that it was possible. Bling was certain that Logan wouldn't have even spoken it aloud, let alone actually come all this way, if he wasn't ready to go.

And the demeanor Bling saw in him fit that description perfectly: at first, Logan had seemed tired and drawn, fatalistic, even, but as the evening went on, seemed to bounce back. Even as they spoke before dinner and after, it was as if Logan had already left Seattle for good, the moment of his arrival his lowest point as he mourned for all he'd left behind. But it appeared that his arrival was also the point at which he allowed himself to let Seattle go... and almost immediately, finding his friend waiting there, Max at his side and Sandra welcoming them both, it was as if Logan began opening himself up, to find his way out of the worst and see what this place had to offer...

... but Max? She too fit his expectation, but it was precisely that which worried Bling for her ... and for Logan. Ever since her aborted escape to Canada with her brother, not even twenty four hours away from Logan, Max had clearly made her choice in life, and that was to keep Logan close, to stay with him, no matter the price, ready to follow him to the ends of the earth, if need be ...

...some might even say that this rural Indiana town _was_ the 'ends of the earth...'

No question, Max would be safer here, probably for a good long while. And probably happier, if Logan were safer, too, and if he could finally leave behind all the pain of Eyes Only and what had become of it.

_But she's never really given up her drive to find the others_, Bling considered, _and out west, she was so much nearer to the siblings she'd managed to find. And she has another 'family' there too, no matter how strange, in Jam Pony. Original Cindy and she were closer than sisters._ The city was broken but vital, edgy... exciting. And this place was definitely _not_ 'exciting.' _Even if she had wanted to try working in a school anyway, would it be enough for her? And what if she decided it wasn't the place for her, after all...?_

The hallway took him past some of the younger kids' rooms, where clusters of children with their teachers and other adults filled the air with that rare sound, the pure joy of learning. Far from the tense, grey atmosphere of Seattle's still-struggling public school system, this building was old but bright, with fresh paint and fresh faces, and with a comfort and affection felt in the air, as if the place was one big, happy family. _Sandra cultivated this,_ Bling reflected. _She may not have started it all, but knowing her, she encouraged the sense of fun, dialed back the stress on the staff and the kids. It's just the sort of place that will let Max grow just as much as it does the students..._

Bling stopped to peer into a room of pre-schoolers, a mixed group of three to five year olds, as they stood around table-top pool of shallow water, playing with buckets and other containers. _Science class_, he guessed with a small grin. One of the changes Sandra _had_ instituted was to group students by ability and not merely their birth dates. In such a small population, even drawing kids from some miles away on family farms and the barely-a-town communities nearby, some grade levels barely had a half-dozen kids. Sandra did some major planning and created a system that grouped children for the work they were ready to tackle, and allowed even the young ones to change classes on occasion if they needed to be with a different group for a different skill set. It provided the best use of those teachers she had, with optimal class sizes.

In the classroom before him, one of the children suddenly squealed in delight, laughing devilishly at whatever he had just done, and Bling felt a smile cross his face. Without dropping a beat, the teacher, crouching alongside one of the youngsters, looked up to see they had an audience, and she waved hello to Bling, smiled at his answer. _Logan has said more than once how much kids seemed to matter to Max_, he remembered. _If there was ever a place for people who wanted to spend their day with children, this was it..._

Kicking himself to get moving, Bling went further down the hall and walked into the office to the greetings of Sandra's administrative assistant, promising him that Sandra was almost ready to go. He saw a teacher he knew from some consulting work he'd done there, some special programming for a couple students with orthopedic involvement, and they spoke briefly about the kids and their progress. As the teacher left for his class, Bling couldn't help consider the fact that in all his time in Seattle, he'd never been asked to consult for any of the schools there, and never heard of any other therapists who had. Whether it was about money, or time, or interest, he didn't know, but tucked away the thought to ask Sandra about it later. _This place is just __**healthier**__, in every possible way..._

His thoughts were interrupted as Sandra emerged from her office and smiled cheerfully to him as she breezed past. "Hey, BL," she called, "two more minutes..." She crossed on to a back office, but returned almost immediately with another sparkling smile for him.

_Anticipating our day_, he suspected, this own thoughts coming closer to earth. His smile in return came without conscious thought.

"Angie, we'll be in town most of the morning, so I'll be only a few blocks away." Sandra stopped at the desk outside her office door. "Call if anything comes up. If this afternoon's quiet we might go out to the lake, but we'll play it by ear, okay?"

"Go have fun!" Her assistant shooed her off. "We'll be here when you get back."

Bling stood aside for Sandra to pass him, and followed her out of the office and down the hall toward the doors. "This has worked out so well for their first day here, BL," Sandra said happily. "They'll be able to see the open market their very first day here, and the weather is just perfect..."

Bling's smile softened as he agreed, again imagining what Logan would make of the market, filled primarily with the crops and wares of the Old Order Amish families in the area. Too bad it was so early in the season; while they would have a few things from early crops, the bulk of the food they would have today was still winter fare, mostly canned goods or stored grains and flour. But even so, the home-grown items were canned the old-fashioned way, in glass canning jars at the height of their sweet ripeness, and Bling half-believed that the market alone could convince his obstinate friend to come join them in Indiana.

He barely gave any consideration now to the warnings he had given Sandra over the past few days: he knew how much she hoped that Max and Logan would embrace this town as readily as she did, from the beginning agreeing with her that it would be the perfect place for them to start over, free from all the hard times and danger they'd faced in Seattle. But Bling had also reminded her to take it easy on them, and to remember how rough the last months had been, especially on Logan. Maybe it would be better to walk softly, to temper their hope and eagerness and just keep things cool...

But Sandra's irrepressible enthusiasm and innate need to heal broken spirits couldn't be dampened, and from the moment she'd seen Max and Logan at her door and she threw her arms around them, her warmth and joy had bubbled over and it was pointless – and unfair – for him to expect her to be any other way. Sandra's sweet interest in their visit, and her ease in helping them feel at home here, made dinner the night before a comfortable, happy welcome for them.

At least it was clearly genuine, and maybe her open reception of them and her love for this place would help them make the choice to come here permanently. It hadn't been a late night, with Logan and Max still needing to check in to their hotel, but it had been such a good one. Bling was ready to start believing that it really might happen as he hoped...

So he nodded. "Even the weather is on our side." He stopped at the end of the sidewalk, the parking lot in one direction and the hotel in the other. "Want to walk over?"

"Of course," she twinkled. "You know, at home this morning, I saw some lilacs blooming out back,"she began wistfully as they set off. "I could have brought them some, for their room..."

Bling grinned, appreciating even more her wholehearted involvement in Max and Logan's visit. "We can take them some later, if you like." _Lilacs, _he mused._ Had Max ever even seen any, __**smelled**__ them, on a warm spring evening? What would she make of a place that didn't smell of kerosene heaters and diesel exhaust and a population struggling to get by?_

Their walk was almost too brief, each enjoying this rare morning together, away from work, that they'd arranged so they could enjoy Max and Logan's first full day in town. As they approached the beautiful old hotel, over one hundred years old, Bling was yet again reminded of how different this place was from Seattle, touching each sense with reminders of how far they were from the city, how the town had managed to avoid the worst of the Pulse thanks to the generations of families so close by who had never relied on electricity or gas powered machinery, who got by on their own and who saw the townspeople through those early, rough times. What had come of it all was an amazing mix of the old and the new, the Old Order families and the 'English.' As he and Sandra walked up the brick walk that led to the wide, double doors of the entry and stepped into the large, open lobby, Bling reflected fleetingly that maybe, someday, he'd find that he missed city life -- but so far, with what he'd found, he had no sense of it yet...

The front desk was unattended at the moment, but they heard voices nearby and saw that the french doors at the other side of the lobby-foyer were open, leading to the garden patio, in full advantage of the warm spring morning. Heading out that way, as they came closer, Bling could hear the animated voice of the hotel's owner mid-story about the hotel and the various legends and tall tales that had grown up about its more colorful past during the era of the nearby Chicago gangsters and Prohibition. But he also heard a sound that brought an involuntary smile in response: the voice responding, in genuine interest and surprise at the lore, belonged to Logan Cale...

_No, not Logan_, Bling reminded himself firmly. _Robert Eastman..._

They stepped out into the sweet-smelling breezes and warm sunshine to see Emily Hostetler holding forth on one of her favorite subjects for her guest, as Logan at a linen-covered table set for breakfast with juice, coffee, and a basket of Emily's popular muffins. As Emily's eyes flickered up to meet them, Sandra spoke first. "Good morning!" she called.

At the sound, Logan turned to see them enter and smiled his welcome too, looking better rested than he had the previous day. "Hey, you two," his eyes lit up at their appearance.

"Hey, Robert. I see you found the place and Emily's getting you fed." Bling wasn't all _that_ worried, but he was sure to add 'Robert's' name to his greeting – just as an extra reminder to Sandra...

Who didn't seem phased in the least. After speaking to him too, Sandra smiled up at his hostess. "Emily, your garden is beautiful! Have you started opening for Sunday brunch yet?"

"Next weekend." The round face beamed.

Sandra explained to 'Robert' as she took a seat beside him, "We came too late for last season, but everyone has said the outdoor Sunday brunch they started a couple years ago here is just wonderful. We should come over this weekend."

"Sounds good," he nodded, obligingly. "Have you two heard the history of this place? Emily has some great stories about Al Capone and some of the others..."

Emily blushed, clearly pleased that her tales were well received and, Bling suspected, even a bit more taken that she'd engaged the interest of such a handsome visitor. Bling helped, "I thought you might enjoy hearing about some of things that went on here."

"Too bad Linda isn't here yet," Logan said, looking back at Emily to add, "you'll have to save some for her, too."

"She sleep in?" Bling asked, casually. He wasn't really concerned, but had been curious about Max's absence, and was glad Logan brought it up.

"Yeah, right," he snorted in humor at Bling's words. "Actually, she was up early for a run. She'd just finished her shower when I left the room so she ought to be here any minute..."

"How about right now?" Max stepped out of the doorway into the sunshine, smiling as she came toward them, at the table. Sandra had stood to reach out in a greeting to Max, and Bling smiled too, offering his own soft hug. Max's response was warm to them both, but immediately then moved close to Logan, circling her arms around his shoulders in an tender, almost protective gesture. At her appearance, a relaxing Logan seemed to settle in even more, covering her hands with his as he leaned back slightly into her embrace. At that, Max's eyes glittered, and the cheekiness Bling was used to seeing faded, ever so slightly. In its place a more hopeful look appeared, and the smile was softer – _almost relieved, _Bling thought.

Almost immediately they were discussing, with Emily, Max's run that morning, where she'd gone and what she'd seen. _None of them, except, maybe, for Logan, would recognize the reconnaissance for what it was_, Bling reflected. _Max would enjoy the run, but would use it as an opportunity to take a look around, get the town's layout, observe the locals observing __**her **...**  
**_

Bling followed the conversation, but having noticed Max's expression, felt a renewed interest in the reactions of his friends. Logan was Logan, he still believed, overworked as usual but already looking even better this morning. _Maybe he's resting better away from all the headaches Seattle presented now._ But Max ... Bling couldn't put his finger on it, exactly. As usual, she looked beautiful and composed; her genetics rarely allowed otherwise. She looked happy and rested as well. But yesterday, in her looks at Logan, the way she touched him, the feeling he had that she was watching Logan for a sign of his reaction to the place, Bling felt a sense of worry from her. And with this, today ...

Bling tried to watch them both more closely without being obvious and he began to see it: Max lingered there, close to Logan, her arms still around him, her fingers intertwined with his, still, drawing him close. As Emily moved off to get their breakfast, Max leaned down to place a soft kiss on the top of his head, and when Logan grinned his reaction, looking up at her, Max caught his eye and seemed to be searching for something, evaluating...

He'd lifted her hands and brushed them with his lips; she responded with a lift in her smile. Glancing up at that moment to see Bling watching them – watching _her_ – Max colored a little and came around to sit at Logan's right. "Thing about a run is, it makes me famished," she announced, seeming to shake off her mood of moments before, more at ease...

_... more like __**Max**_

Logan looked at her, amused. "More than usual?" he teased.

_If anything was amiss, he didn't see it_, Bling reflected. _So it's just Max who's worried ... and that probably means it's about Logan..._

"Then you came to the right place," Sandra was laughing, "start on these, because they're wonderful. And Emily will keep bringing more 'til you just can't fit another in." She lifted the basket of muffins toward Max, and sighed, "Life just isn't fair ... if I even look at those muffins I gain five pounds." Sandra then chuckled, and added, "maybe I ought to get back to running, so I can feel a little less guilty when I do eat them."

Bling watched as Max took one of the sweet muffins and Sandra offered them to Logan, then to him, with a private little smile of enthusiasm for their morning, clearly unaware of Max's reaction earlier, or his own concern about it. Sandra asked their guests how they slept, eliciting comments from both Logan and Max, who each seemed to settle in a little more with being there. Bling managed an appropriate comment or two, and soon Sandra was telling Max and Logan about the open market they'd be visiting after breakfast.

As they spoke, Bling managed to study both his guests again, and it all finally shifted into place: _Maybe Max is just a woman in love, and wants desperately to make things better for Logan, _he surmised. _When they were teaching her to evaluate and act, to take charge and control the situation, they didn't bother to tell her that some things, like seeing your lover hurting, aren't so easily overcome..._

Bling felt his muscles relax, not really aware until that moment that seeing Max's concern had put him on alert. _It's not a direct threat that has her worried –_ she'd never have left Logan, even for a short run, if it were. _This_ was what he'd sensed between them, what he saw now: Max and Logan had grown even closer in the past months, any remaining walls between them finally gone. And having given her heart to him, Max felt Logan's frustrations and pain at the demise of Eyes Only, in all its forms, more than any pain of her own...

_She wants this for him,_ he realized. _She wants anywhere for him, any place, to take him away from Eyes Only and all the associated danger, all the suffering he's done for the cause, for his belief that he still wasn't doing enough..._ Bling was as certain now as if Max was speaking it all to him. _She wants it to be here because Logan's connection to me, and mine to this place, but if it doesn't work out here she'll find a place it will..._

"Hey, these _are_ good," Logan offered innocently, and Max's expression immediately lifted in happiness. _With each moment he's happy, she's happy,_ Bling reflected, noting with irony that there was so little in this that she sought for herself. He realized that it was even more important that he work to show the couple how good a place this was for them – now, more than ever, not only for Logan ... but for Max, too...

–TBC--


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel borrowed, no profits realized. **

**A/N: The events of **_**Asylum**_** from Bling's point of view... **

_Thanks for reading; any and all comments appreciated._

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_**Asylum:**_

_**Book II**_

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Emily brought a pot of coffee for the table and, after refilling their cups, set the pot on the table to _leave_ with them, a luxury rarely seen in Seattle. She then set down a round stoneware dish which held three different jams in its sectioned bowl. With a crafty smile, Emily tempted them, "since you're going to the Market this morning, I thought you'd like a preview. These two jams were made by Doris Showalter, and this one by her daughter, Mary Yoder. They'll have a booth open, in case you want to have some genuine homemade jam to take home with you." She smiled, having been successful at the ploy before.

Bling nodded. "Oh, you'll like these," he said to his guests. "Might even inspire you to try making your own jam," he prodded Logan. "Robert's quite a cook," he added, for Emily.

"Then you're going to love the Market," she beamed. "Freshest ingredients you'll find. Too bad it's not later in the season, but what's available will be the best you can get."

As the others spoke, Max's eyes hadn't lifted from the container and, with a soft, curious movement, she reached out to draw her fingertips along the deep midnight outer rim of the dish, tracing down along the outside where the glaze blended into a softer, speckled blue, even more intrigued by the bowl's cool, hard smoothness. "This dish – it's beautiful," she finally looked up to Emily.

Emily looked pleased. "It was made by John Leatherman. I don't know if he'll be there today, but there's always a booth of his pottery there at the market. His and his sister's families take turns at the Wednesday market, so no one misses too much work."

Max's eyes widened, clearly not expecting her response. "Really? Someone here, locally, made this?" At Emily's nod, she asked, "They'll have things like this, for sale there?"

"All kinds of things – bowls, mugs, plates, vases," she encouraged.

Max nodded thoughtfully, her eyes then dropping back to the dish, and she smiled. "It's beautiful," she repeated, softly.

Bling watched Max as her eyes still took in the lines of the bowl, again tracing along the highly glazed surface, and smiled unconsciously at her intrigue. _Could it be that Max has never seen hand-thrown pottery before? Or never stopped to admire it?_ he wondered. Glancing over at Logan, he saw that his friend was watching Max too, his eyes softened in affection and surprise. _Not here twenty four hours and they're both finding surprises,_ Bling mused. _Will they see how good this place can be for them, if only to present them with new possibilities?_ Looking over now to Sandra, Bling couldn't hold back his grin as he saw that she beamed with the potential she, too, now recognized. _Poor Max and Logan,_ he thought ruefully. _Between Sandra and everything this town has to offer, they don't stand a chance..._

After only another few minutes Emily brought out breakfast and left them to themselves. As far as Bling knew, Max and Logan might be the small hotel's only guests that day; they had the patio to themselves for this leisurely meal. More likely, however, a few other guests had stayed over, if only to be around for the Market, and had already been up and out before the four of them had straggled in at the late morning hour of nine. But even though they seemed to be alone, they would remain careful as their visit here started.

"So, what did you think of the place ... Linda?" Sandra asked, careful to use the right name, even though she spoke softly. "See anything interesting on your run?"

"Yeah, I did," she began, reminded by Sandra's question. "It's like a storybook town; it's all so clean and well-tended. How did everything survive the Pulse so perfectly? This close to Chicago, how did it escape being invaded and stripped bare by everyone from the city, the way the small towns were out west?"

As she spoke, Sandra had begun to nod, clearly having noticed the difference herself. "From what people say, it was a lucky combination of a few things," she explained. "First of all, Chicago was one of those cities where most of the population lived without a car, and depended on the train or the bus to get around. It had been moving in that direction since the fuel prices spiked up so quickly about fifteen years ago, and so fewer people there had their own cars to get away. And for Chicago, the Pulse hit at a time there had a lower gas supply anyway, because along with the prices and limited availability, there was the additional cost for mid-west sellers for trucking it in from the coasts. So it was even less likely here than in Seattle that people had transportation, and that people who did could get enough gas to just take off to another town. And there are lots of little towns in any direction from the city, both in Illinois and Indiana, so those who left spread out, I guess. And maybe the most significant, for us here – many of the places here were summer homes, and the people caught here when the Pulse hit were away from jobs or home or family in Chicago – so they burned up their gas to go _to_ the city, not escape it. If anyone figured out the Pulse was here to stay and they might survive more easily here, the gas was a lot harder to come by."

"And from everything I've read, the Pulse wasn't quite so devastating here in the Midwest, as compared to the east and west coasts," Logan added. "There have been several theories, but it seems to be generally accepted as fact. Maybe fewer people felt the need to find a place to fish or grow their own food to get by."

"Well, whatever did it, it's nothing like Seattle," Max said, almost wistfully. "I don't know that I'd believe it was real, if you two weren't here already, living here to say it's all a fake."

Logan slid his hand across the corner of the table and slipped his fingers under hers, toying with them gently. "Did you like what you see? At least, as a first look," he amended.

"Yeah, although it was only a first look around – and only what can be seen from the street."

"As far as we can tell, what you see is what you get." Bling offered his encouragement. "It really is this nice and quiet." He looked over for Sandra's vote. "You've had the same reaction, haven't you, Sandra?"

Her nod was immediate. "Between BL helping out at the clinic, and all the parents and families I've met because of the students, we've had a chance to meet nearly everyone in the area. It's all like this – everyone pitches in with what they can, as they can. It was one effect the Pulse _did_ have; the Amish families did a lot to help everyone realize they could get by without dependable electricity or machines or cars, and could live off the food they raised. The lesson this town came away with was the value in helping each other by contributing something they could manage – the families making a go of raising chickens or cattle, for example, were encouraged to focus on that and let others raise crops," she explained. "And after things leveled out, they decided it was a good way to live – and it brought the town a lot closer. Not too good to be true, after all."

"And even though you two came in from outside the area, they haven't had a problem with you horning on their good thing?" Max wasn't quite ready to believe it all yet, Bling noticed. _Maybe afraid too much hope would result in disappointment?_

Sandra smiled, "it might have been easier for me, since they'd advertised for a principal and had several people from other places apply. And since BL came with me, he has that 'in' too. But there have been a couple others who have moved here since, and they've been made a part of the community."

Max snorted. "Sounds like a set-up for a bad science fiction movie, when the main characters fall for all the sweetness and get sucked in."

Bling laughed, taking up the thread. "Well, if that's what happens, they're good, because they have us fooled into thinking we're just fine." He paused a moment before adding, "if you came here to join the school staff, Linda, you and Robert would be welcomed here. And no science fiction surprises – I promise." He considered them both, and shrugged, " it _is_ pretty quiet here, though. Since Chicago is so close, we've gone over there a few times, just to get a bit of city life back. It's not Seattle around here, by any stretch."

He watched Logan and Max as their eyes met over his words, Logan's asking Max if she were ready for such a leap, Max's asking fate if they could just finally have some peace. He'd known these two, observed them month after month, and was reminded how far they'd seem to come in these last weeks, after Eyes Only had been discovered. _If you don't some here, go __**somewhere**,_ he urged them silently. _If you two can't see how hard Seattle is on you both right now, someone's got to make you see it..._

But a small smile had broken again on Max's face, and she turned to Bling and said, "wasn't that why we came, to get ourselves away from Seattle? So far, things here look pretty good."

Bling couldn't help but notice the relief on Logan's face at her words, and the stubborn hope that she meant exactly what she said. "They are – no matter how much we might want you here, we wouldn't steer you wrong. You got that, right?"

She nodded, her smile softening. "Yeah, we got that." She looked back at 'Robert' and tucked her fingers closer around his. "So we get to work looking around for real?"

Logan's smile further lightened the worry and exhaustion Bling had seen the night before. "You say the word," he agreed.

"Maybe the first word is to get you two to the Market," Sandra suggested gently.

Bling glanced back at her, yet again surprised at her uncanny sensitivity. _Woman has radar for lost souls, and for knowing just how much to push – and when to ease up_, he reached over to take her hand and, with an amused wink, brought it to his lips for an affectionate kiss. "Let's get started." he agreed. _I should have recruited Sandra a long time ago,_ Bling noted with amusement as the four untangled themselves from the table. _If she'd been on the job, Max and Logan would have a half dozen kids, a dog and a PTA membership by now..._

But on the walk over, Bling's concern lingered as he saw the look again from Max, the worry and attention, hovering under the surface, for Logan. Was he seeing more than was there? Was it still an apprehension that this move wouldn't be the answer they hoped it would be? Was he even right about that? _How much can you help? How much should you intrude on their decision?_ he asked himself again.

_Patience in all things..._ he heard his own voice from his early months as Logan's therapist. He ruefully reminded himself that 'practice what you preach' was also a fitting aphorism here.

Despite how important their well being was, and how much he hoped he had an answer for them, this was their decision – their lives. He'd never felt so strongly for them before that he might have found what they needed, and allowed himself to hope. _Just let them discover it for themselves,_ he let his hand play up across Sandra's shoulders as she walked beside him. _If it's right, they'll know..._

At the corner they turned toward the park-like green paralleling Sandra's school at the far end and the town's main street at the other. With another glance toward his friends, Bling's self-counsel was given another challenge, and he followed their eyes to see the Market, as they would, as newcomers...

The "Market," standing under trees allowing dappled sunshine across its expanse, was a collection of tents and tables, bins and boxes. Along the street and rimming the park was the distinctive mix of pick-up trucks, small cars, and iconic black, horse-drawn buggies, horses standing by calmly, lazily feeding or swatting an early-season fly. Shoppers were moving from table to box, peering at the wares. Further inside the tents wooden racks were set up, holding rows and rows of glass jars of varying sizes and every color imaginable; coolers of plastic or styrofoam were labled "butter" or "cheese" or "eggs." A refrigerated truck stood behind the tents and had a price list displayed, for milk and various meats.

Almost as one, Max and Logan slowed, taking it all in. Max finally spoke. "Damn. It's not South Market, is it?" Logan broke his gaze to look up at her, a hopeful smile appearing. When she looked down, seeing the boyish enthusiasm taking hold of too-serious Logan Cale, she grinned. "Big money that it smells a lot better, too."

_...to be continued..._


	8. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel borrowed, no profits realized. **

**A/N: Continuing events from the story, **_**Asylum,**_** from Bling's point of view. **

_It's been a while, I know. For those of you sticking with this odd little story, thanks for coming back to read – all comments appreciated._

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_**Asylum:**_

_**Book II **_

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**May 17, 2023**

Bling didn't believe in coincidences, especially where they concerned a determined Sandra. And so he didn't believe it was a coincidence that she'd steered them toward the end entry of the main tent where the craftsmen set up their wares, where she knew the potters would have not only their cups and bowls and other things for sale, but if any of them were throwing today, would have a wheel there too, letting the customers watch as shapeless lumps of cold grey clay were gently coaxed into graceful, curving shapes.

Sandra led the group in, already talking with Logan – or, Bling reminded himself, _Robert_ – about the farmer from whom she brought fresh herbs, both in small bunches for cooking that week and potted, for her windowsill. Bling dropped back a step to observe them all, but was most curious now about Max. Something about the way she had examined the bowl during breakfast had touched him, as it clearly had the others, but made him curious enough to see if more would come of it.

He watched, unobtrusively, as Max's eyes took in the scene before her and wasn't disappointed. Almost immediately, her gaze fell on the first rack of pottery, three shelves of serving pieces in blues and greens, some heavy and rustic-looking, some rounded and comforting, and for a moment, her eyes lit up in fascination.

It was short lived, however; just as Logan began to look back at her, Max seemed to shake off her intrigue and smiled for him. "They've got a lot of pottery here," he said to her, offering, "if you see some things you like, we could always mail back anything that was too big to take."

Her smile broadened gently at his offer, and she nodded, "that's a good idea." In the next moment, as the couple held each other's eyes, she even seemed to relax again a little to add, "thanks."

Logan grinned with her words, and lifted an eyebrow, "I'll let you figure out how I can mail back a few pots of herbs with the pottery," he tipped his head toward the farther tables. "Why don't you stay here and look at what they have – I can get started on the food. I suspect I could spend a lot more time looking down there than you would."

She might have blushed a little, or maybe Bling imagined it – but there was no mistaking her emotions when she leaned toward him quickly to offer a brief kiss, pulling away again to nod again, a glow in her eyes. "I'll know where to find you."

Logan turned to move on up the aisle, further into the tent, and Sandra followed along, telling him about the families whose wares were set up along their path. Bling stepped across the aisle to talk to a couple of the regulars there, not only to say hello but to see if they knew who was expected at the market that day, in the hope that one of the potters might be coming. He spoke with them for several minutes, not far from where Max lingered amid the freestanding wooden shelves lined with pottery, never completely losing sight of her. As he watched her inconspicuously he became more intrigued by the moment.

The Max he watched was unguarded, her emotions filtering though again. Clearly she didn't expect trouble here or she wouldn't have left Logan's side, even with Bling nearby and with his assurances of the town's peacefulness, even to catch a few moments among these items which so fascinated her. Yet her attention was pulled in two directions: as she lifted first one piece, then another, taken by their beauty, she never allowed more than a few moments pass without looking back up to watch Logan, her dark eyes quiet and more relaxed than they'd been, but carrying a troubled mix of concern, worry – and love – for him.

Bling's own concern prickled at what he saw. Max being so drawn to pottery was unusual enough. Max looking out for Logan, getting his back, and showing the soft spot she had for him wasn't anything new. But this, the sense he had that she was worried for him in general, rather than from any specific source, was different than he'd seen in her before and in turn raised his radar for Logan's safety and well-being, along with a bit of guilt for having left Eyes Only to follow Sandra out to Indiana.

Enough that he decided to press it all now, while both Logan and Sandra were occupied elsewhere. Ambling over to where Max stood, cradling a rounded blue coffee mug in her hands, the shape and coloring matching that of the bowl she'd so admired that morning, Bling interrupted her thoughts to offer, "the folks over there think John Leatherman will be here later this morning, so you might have a chance to watch him make some things just like these."

Her smile was quick and she nodded, seeming to be drawn back to earth slightly at his words. "I know lots of things are homemade now that weren't, back in the day, but I always thought 'homemade' meant something you patched together because you couldn't afford the real thing. But these..." she glanced back at the rows of colorful pottery, "they're made by hand, one by one, like homemade, but ... it's as if they make them because they want to, not because they _have_ to."

_So that's it, at least partly? Face to face with art for art's sake, even in the guise of a practical little item as common as a coffee mug..._

"An old tradition, I think, Max; lots of cultures from way, way back created pottery and earthenware and sometimes, the local artists would turn out versions that were decorative or in unusual shapes – some even carried pictographs of the tribe's history, like an important battle."

"But some were just to be pretty..." she said softly, her eyes taking in the detail, unable to resist the smooth lines, touching the heavy rim of a short, squat pitcher. "Like this. Most people would just keep their milk in the carton. It's functional ... adequate." She smiled a little. "But this ..."

"Art for art's sake..." he repeated aloud now.

"Not high on Manticore's list," she added wryly, but softer than she would have before, less cocky, more wistful. With her words, though, she glanced back toward Logan, another protective glance, watching out for him. It was just the opening Bling needed.

"I'm glad you two could come out," he said, gently, tracking Max's glance over to Logan as he and Sandra chatted easily with the woman at a table down the way, discussing the foods lined up in their sparkling glass jars behind her. They both saw Logan's appreciative gaze as he admired the jars of bright red tomatoes and sunny peaches preserved from last summer's crop. "I suspect Seattle is a pretty rough place to be for Logan, right now," Bling added, quietly.

"He already looks so much better..." she said, her soft voice almost wistful.

"So do you."

At his words, Max's eyes swung back to his and she shrugged, her tone more 'Max' again, "I'm fine. Always fine, Bling..."

"C'mon, Max, you know I buy that even less than Logan does." He saw her challenge his words, silently, and he pressed, "physically, you may be healthier than any of us, and better able to withstand all the change and battle stress any situation will throw at you. But you worry about your family, your friends ... _him_..." Bling nodded toward Logan, watching him again briefly as he handed several bills to the woman at the table, who loaded the colorful jars into a cardboard box for them from a stack of them, kept handy for customers. "He changes, you change. He looks happier ... healthier ... like _this_," Bling turned back to her, "and you look as if the weight of the world has been lifted from you."

She wavered, and with a subtle shift in her expression admitted, in a small voice, "it has." She looked back up at him and admitted, "Bling, you have to know how much Logan misses you." She wavered, still uncomfortable with the newness of expressing her emotions. "But I do, too. I never used to worry about his health, really, when you were there to kick his ass – to watch his ass, too. I got used to knowing that you'd recognize any problems well before they were dangerous..."

Bling frowned. "Has he _had_ some problems?"

"No," she shook her head, but still looked troubled, "but I never know if he's telling me everything ... if I might be missing some signs or symptoms ... or if I'd know what to do if something suddenly went wrong..."

Bling's soft smile was encouraging. "Max, you've had more emergency medical training than most of the population. You'd know what to do..."

"But it's all theoretical, Bling, not practical." She turned to him, her expression revealing her concern. "I've never seen that stuff in the field ... in a _person_," she amended. "I don't know all the fine points, and..." She hesitated, looking ashamed of her next words. "I'd be okay as a back-up, but a good soldier knows her strengths _and_ her weaknesses. I might be able to cover him from all sorts of external threats, but if his health is compromised..." Her look was distant for the moment as she imagined the worst. "I'm not the best person for the job," she resumed, her tone more matter of fact as she did. "You're a better primary for Logan, Bling, given the givens. I hate for him that it's all on me now – especially with the way he's been running himself ragged lately."

Bling sighed. He knew without question it wasn't just the medical aspect itself that had Max worried ... it was that it involved the man she loved. He'd lost sight of the truism he'd learned in his training and had seen in his practice, that expecting a spouse or love interest to also serve as medical aide could take its toll. Although it was far more likely to happen when the person with medical issues needed a great amount of assistance and care, it could always occur. Given how independent Logan was – stubbornly so – and how strong and skilled Max was – it just hadn't occurred to Bling that such a concern would arise with her.

He realized now it should have: trained as a soldier, Max would have all the bodyguard and security matters for Logan well in hand. But those threats she knew well were now coupled with just that little extra concern that Logan, as a paraplegic, had medical needs and warning signs that needed strict watch so there _wouldn't_ be any problems. Max suddenly found herself not only as Logan's sole security force and body guard, but as stand-by medic for a subject who was far too stubborn for his own good ... of course that would take a toll on the woman who in a perfect world shouldn't have to offer him more than her love, affection and support. Instead, Max still battled the continuing nightmare that either his activities, or her background, or his injuries, or _all_ of them, would mean she would lose him and somehow it would have been her fault...

"Max," Bling's deep voice was quiet, soothing, "you know if this were anyone else we were talking about, you'd probably be saying that 'given the givens,' you were more uniquely qualified to be the man's primary than anyone."

"He needs you, Bling, not me."

"And just what do you think he'd say if he heard you say that?"

There was a sad melancholy in her smile. "Since when do either of us listen to him when it's about looking out for him?"

"Well, if you two do decide to move out here, I'll be around, too ... and it will be a lot less likely he'll need either of our medical skills, anyhow."

"What do you really think about that? Look at what happened in Seattle; he almost died because the blood bank there was dry. It's so rural here... can he get the medical attention he needs?"

"I wouldn't have encouraged you two to come out if I didn't think it would be good for him, all around. The next town over has decent-sized hospital, with good facilities and care, and it wouldn't be a much longer a drive than he'd have in Seattle. Another hour over and he can be in Chicago, and everything there is state of the art, as good as you'll find these days." Bling paused and looked at her in concern, knowing what would make the move hardest for her. "But what about you, Max? Are you ready to move so far from your friends – and siblings?"

"I'd go anywhere with him..." she said without hesitation.

"I know. But will you resent having had to leave Seattle? He'd sense it, you know, no matter how much you tried to hide it... And I know he's worried about that."

She glanced back over to Logan, seeing him just at the moment he looked back over to the two of them and grinned, lifting a glass jar full of bright red tomatoes in a market-addict's triumph. Unable to resist, Max's troubled expression broke into a smile for him as she nodded and mimed her approval. As Logan turned back to his shopping, she glanced back up at Bling before turning back to watch the man she loved, as she spoke. "You forget I learned pretty early that there are times you have to leave those you love, because of everyone's safety – theirs, yours..." she laughed softly, not really with humor, but as if the realization was dawning on her now, too. "The only person I've ever just not been able to leave is Logan. I've probably put him in danger by _not_ leaving, but so far, things have worked out," she reflected. "And I've been able to help get his ass out of a tight spot a time or two, so maybe it's worked out okay." She turned to face Bling more fully, and, her words more focused now, said, "No resentment. I don't think I've ever _resented_ leaving anyone, because it had to be done. I'll miss OC and everyone, maybe even Normal, a little. I might sometimes wonder if any of the kids are looking for me there, and might lose the trail if they don't know where else to look. But look at him, Bling..." They both turned back to watch Logan at the next table, admiring little bundles of both dried and freshly cut herbs beside the tiny, windowsill-ready pots of baby herb plants alongside newly sprouting, garden-ready tomato and bean plants. "There's nothing more I want right now than to get him out here, so he can be happy again, like this." Bling saw a glimmer of moisture in her eyes as Max's voice carried her love for Logan and her frustration that things were so hard on him now. "Doesn't he deserve to be happy?"

"More than anyone I know," Bling said softly, "except maybe you."

She looked back up to Bling in momentary uncertainly before her expression shifted, almost letting her hope show before she minimized the concern he showed for her, now, too, and tried to steel her voice. "What I said – once he's good again, it's all I need..."

Bling's brow clouded a little at her words, starting to realize how he'd spent so much time worrying about Logan and how tough things were for him, he'd allowed himself to buy into Max's ever-tough facade, and even though he'd noticed Max's concern he'd not really considered _Max_...

_...oh, damn..._ he breathed to himself. _All this time, have I been as cold as Lydecker and the others who saw Max as a soldier, a warrior – and not a bright, sensitive young woman who is trying to carry the weight of the world without a way to take care of herself? How much did I miss? How much have I wanted her to be as resilient has she pretends to be? _

Bling worked to tamp down his reaction to his oversight as he drew a breath. _Make it up to her for missing it all this time,_ he told himself. With a small lift of his eyebrow, he tipped his head a little as he reached out to trace a finger around the rim of the mug Max still held, almost forgotten now. "You need more, Max; everyone needs some time for themselves ... even you."

She looked up to consider him, her thoughts clearly circling on his words, on what she'd learned so young, then sudden broke the gaze, looking away. Her words came quietly, the calm in her voice more heartbreaking than if she'd actually cried. "Not having something you might want is not so bad... but if someone promises it's within your reach... and if you start to believe it might be true..." She looked back toward Logan and shrugged, "and then it's taken away..." Her brown eyes were huge as she looked back to Bling, the pain there still so raw that Bling felt yet another ripple of anger at the government he served, knowing now what they had done to Max and her family.

"Max..." Bling said involuntarily, feeling for her. In the next moment, though, he knew without question that this place, which had offered first Sandra, then him, so much, could be a shelter for both Max and Logan, where they could relax and really get to know each other, away from most of the dangers that had pressed in on each of them since long before they'd met. "Look at this place," he urged, quietly, as certain as he could be now that his new home was as good for his friends as it had been for them. "Worlds removed from Seattle, Max – but right now that sounds as if it might be the best thing for you both."

He watched as she glanced away again suddenly, breaking the connection, pretending to take in the lines and the form of the mug she held, reminded of its presence by Bling's movement. "'Art for art's sake...'" she mused. "Logan first, Bling, whatever he wants. He deserves it."

"Plenty of time for you both here, all the time in the world. I think if you give in and do something just because it makes _you_ happy, the happiness it gives you will be nothing compared to the joy it will give to Logan."

Max looked back up to Bling, wavering, as if afraid to trust his words. "How could that be?" she asked in a whisper.

"That's what love does, Max," he smiled, softly. "Same thing that lets you abandon everything else just to be with Logan, no matter where he is ... same thing that brought you out here, all this way. Maybe it can still be all about yourself when you're in love – but suddenly, what you want, more than anything, is to see your lover smile." He tipped his chin toward the seemingly untroubled man a few yards away, and saw her eyes soften as she saw Logan take a bite of a peach slice, preserved from last summer's crop. "What I see in your face now is what I saw in Logan's, when he watched you looking at that bowl this morning at breakfast."

The dark eyes turned back to his, seeking confirmation that his words could be true, and, seeing their answer, looked back to the man she loved, a smile gradually taking hold of her features. "Look at him – he said he's always been a city kid, and wasn't sure of a place like this was something he could get used to." She laughed softly. "Took him, what, maybe fifteen hours?"

"And half of that was sleeping," Bling grinned.

"Yeah," she murmured, nodding, then looked at the mug in her hands. Tucking it into the crook of her arm, she looked back up at the shelf and, taking only another moment or two, selected first one more, then another pair, until she cradled all four in her arm. "Four of them, for our stay, while we're here. For coffee, on your front porch. For luck," she added, looking back to the therapist, her eyes shining again in hope. "Something to come home to..."

_To be continued..._


End file.
